The Other Side of Despair
by Phenyx
Summary: Its been six years since Parker last saw Jarod. But the Jarod she remembers no longer exists. After an excruciating week of writing, here is the final chapter. Please accept my apologies in advance. This last chapter lays it on pretty thick.Flame on!
1. Crashing The Party

Disclaimer: The Characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots and The Center are all property of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and are used without permission. Blah, blah, blah, yea, yea just get on with it. No money has been involved here and no infringement is intended. 12/29/02  
  
  
  
"Human life begins on the other side of despair." Jean- Paul Sartre  
  
  
  
  
  
The Other Side of Despair Part 1  
  
  
  
  
  
Parker hated to admit it, but she was nervous.  
  
Her hair was piled elegantly on top of her head with tiny tendrils curling at the back of her neck. Her black dress was expensive, fashionable and very flattering on her lithe form. The gown started at her neck with a two- inch band of fabric that circled her throat. The satin flared over her cleavage and her bosom to wrap delicately around her hips. The cut of the dress left her back completely bare. The skirt was just tight enough to accentuate her trim figure and short enough to show off her long legs. Parker had decided against wearing stockings, so her legs were bare to the ankles where black bands of leather held dainty, very high-heeled shoes to her feet.  
  
The only jewelry she wore was her mother's diamond ring and exquisite diamond earrings cut to match the ring.  
  
Parker looked good and she knew it. But this room was full of beautiful, wealthy people so she doubted that she would stand out much in this crowd.  
  
"There's a lot of money in this room." Parker murmured as she sipped at a glass of good champagne.  
  
Ethan, her brother, sat across the table dressed in a black tuxedo, sipping at a similarly filled glass.  
  
"Clients mostly." He nodded. "The family will have a party for him next weekend at the ranch. We get together to celebrate Thanksgiving and his birthday at the same time."  
  
"I'd have thought he would hate this kind of thing." Parker mused.  
  
Ethan chuckled. "He does. But it is a necessary burden of conducting a successful business, he says."  
  
For Jarod to call his company a successful business was like calling the Pacific Ocean a little body of water. In the six years since Parker and Jarod had last parted, he had built the Paradigm Corporation. It had taken nearly two years for Parker to realize that Paradigm was owed and run by her childhood friend. She had kept well informed about the company ever since.  
  
Initially based on electronic security services, the Paradigm Corporation now had branches involved in transportation services, pharmaceutical research and the hotel industry. Evidently, Jarod collected fine hotels like other rich men collect cars.  
  
As a matter of fact, the ballroom in which they were now sitting was in one of the best hotels in Los Angeles and Jarod owned it. Huge parties were held here every year on Oscar night. According to Ethan, Jarod lived in this hotel, using the entire top floor as his personal accommodations.  
  
Jarod had amassed a fortune by parlaying fear into cash. He had begun shortly after Parker had last seen him by selling security services to fretful companies. After the terrorist attack that had destroyed the twin towers in New York, security and disaster recovery had been at the front of everyone's mind.  
  
Jarod could find the flaws in any existing system and always built a better one. He had made a lot of money very quickly.  
  
Within a year, the Paradigm Corporation had started its first hostile takeover. The Centre had pursued Jarod for years, but had not been prepared to be his prey. Money and power had been all it took for The Centre to be defeated. Not even the Triumvirate had been able to stop the gushing flow of cash that Jarod had been able to pump into his take over attempt.  
  
Parker had heard rumors about stock market manipulation that had finally tipped the scales against The Centre. She believed it to be true. The Centre had taught Jarod everything he knew, including how to be ruthless and underhanded when the need arose.  
  
Once the take over had been complete, The Centre personnel had all been pink slipped. Every single employee had been laid off. Patients and inmates had been transferred to hospitals or therapeutic facilities. Construction workers had arrived en mass the same day that Parker had packed up her office and left.  
  
The building that had once been run by the Parker family and had been Jarod's prison for thirty years was now the Paradigm Pharmaceutical Research Centre. The PPRC was a highly reputable scientific facility making great strides in cancer and AIDS research.  
  
Once he had won his final battle with The Centre, Jarod had begun buying bankrupt airlines. Jarod had been interviewed in a leading business magazine at the time. Much of the business world had thought that this upstart newcomer was making a mistake in purchasing the failing companies.  
  
"I like airplanes." He had told the reporter. "Seems like a waste to have all those planes just sitting around doing nothing. So I bought them."  
  
Jarod had mothballed the older aircraft. With the remaining fleet, he had removed half of the seats, doubled the ticket prices and hired an army of security personnel. Every Paradigm flight carried at least two highly trained security officers in addition to the flight attendants. It was a well-known fact that these security officers were usually ex-military personnel, all very well paid for their services. Paradigm flights all had an extra level of security for passengers to go through so boarding time was longer than it was for other flights.  
  
It had been one of these flights that had brought Parker and her little family to California just yesterday. The security had been very obvious and boarding had taken some time. But she had indeed felt safe and the staff had been very kind. More importantly, the flight had been fully booked. Jarod's airplanes were making him a tidy profit.  
  
Parker looked around the room and tried not to fidget. Musicians played a light jazz tune on the other side of the room and several couples were dancing. Waiters clad in white glided smoothly through the crowd with glasses of champagne of silver trays. There was a bar along one wall for guests who wanted something stronger to drink.  
  
Though the party was obviously in full swing at this point, the guest of honor had yet to arrive.  
  
"Where is he?" Parker grumbled.  
  
"He'll be here." Ethan assured her. "Jarod is a creature of habit. He will show up exactly 60 minutes late for his own party. If we're lucky, he won't be too drunk yet."  
  
Parker glanced at him in concern.  
  
"He'll say hello to his parents first. Then, if he hasn't brought an escort with him, he'll pick one young lady to accompany him for the rest of the evening."  
  
Parker's eyebrows rose at that comment.  
  
Ethan shrugged. "Jarod says that he has to choose one early otherwise the vultures will hound him all night."  
  
Parker scoffed.  
  
Ethan went on. "She will be a blonde or a red-head, never a brunette. And he never picks the same girl twice, unless he's completely forgotten the first time."  
  
Parker frowned. "That explains why there are so many bad dye jobs in here." Parker was getting more and more nervous with each passing moment. Jarod had been furious with her when she had last seen him but Parker had been counting on his laid back charm to make things easier. She was beginning to think that this had been a bad idea all together.  
  
Parker glanced furtively at a table not far away. Ethan and Emily had thoughtfully set the table up in a small room off of this one. The room seemed to be situated in such a way that it could be used as a cloakroom if desired. But for now, the little room was being used by only two people.  
  
Parker sighed. From her vantage point, she could easily see into the room and watch over the two most important people in her life. An older man, a psychiatrist, neatly dressed in a tuxedo of his own, sat with his head bent in conversation with a little girl. Parker smiled as she watched Sydney talking to his namesake. As she watched, Parker saw her daughter look up from her paper and crayons to beam a loving, joyous grin at her Uncle Sydney.  
  
Parker's little girl adored her uncle. Sydney had been there for Parker during her pregnancy and had coached her through a long, difficult labor. When Parker had held her squirming newborn out to him and said "Sydney, I want you to meet your godchild, Sydney Catherine." The aging psychiatrist had burst into tears. He'd been completely devoted to the little girl ever since.  
  
It was for her little girl that Parker had come here today. At five-years- old, little Sydney was a beautiful outgoing child. Her brown hair curled down her back, held in place tonight with a green silk ribbon. Her eyes were large and round and a deep dark brown in color. She smiled often and until recently, had never given Parker any cause for concern.  
  
Several months ago, Sydney had started the first grade. Being younger than the other children, the little girl had worked hard to fit in with the other students. Being without a father hadn't bothered her. There were lots of children whose parents lived apart. But somehow, Sydney had gotten it into her head that when your parents don't live together you must visit each one or else face the consequences of the law.  
  
Parker's daughter could be exceedingly stubborn. The little girl understood that her father didn't know anything about her yet young Sydney insisted that she had to meet him and perform the required visitation.  
  
It was quite contrary to the little girl's personality to behave with such forceful determination. Sydney was normally a patient and agreeable girl. But in this case, the child had dug in her heels. When Sydney had gone so far as to throw a full blown, screaming temper tantrum, something she'd never done before even as a toddler, Parker had relented. Parker had been putting this off for far too long anyway.  
  
Jarod had more security than Fort Knox and a bevy of secretaries who refused to pass messages unless the topic of concern was released. Parker just couldn't allow Jarod to find out that he had a child by reading about it on some pink message slip. After several failed attempts to contact Jarod by phone, Parker had resorted to calling her brother. Ethan had told Parker about this party. He had enlisted the help of his half-sister, Emily and had gotten them all invitations.  
  
"Remember that you are doing this for Sydney." Parker told herself. "He's never going to forgive you anyway. So just remember your little girl is counting on you."  
  
"Hello, Miss Parker." A deep voice broke Parker from her reverie.  
  
Parker looked up, startled for a moment. She grinned as she recognized the big man standing beside her. Sam was dressed in a black suit and tie, much like he had always dressed when he worked for Parker at The Centre.  
  
"Sam!" She exclaimed. "How are you? What on earth are you doing here?"  
  
Sam laughed. "I was just going to ask you the same thing."  
  
Parker stood and clasped Sam's hand affectionately. After a moment's hesitation, she reached out and pulled him into a friendly hug.  
  
"I'm here with my brother." Parker explained simply. "Sam this is my brother, Ethan. Ethan, this is Sam. He was part of my team at The Centre." Parker turned from one man to the other as she introduced them.  
  
Ethan stood to exchange handshakes.  
  
"Mr. Ethan and I have met." Sam replied. "I've been working for Paradigm security ever since I left The Centre." He said. "The boss came to me personally and offered me a job."  
  
Parker stared at him in shock. "You work for Jarod?"  
  
"Ironic, isn't it?" Sam chuckled. "He said that he admired my loyalty to my employer and my tenacity to a project." Sam shrugged. "Miss Parker, what are you doing here?" he asked bluntly.  
  
Parker frowned for a moment then turned to lead Sam into the nearby room. "Look who I found, Syd."  
  
"My goodness. Sam," Sydney said as he sprung to his feet. "It is good to see you again."  
  
The two men exchanged hearty handshakes. "Its good to see you to, Sir." Sam answered.  
  
"Sam, this is my daughter, Sydney." Miss Parker introduced the wide-eyed little girl.  
  
Sam solemnly shook the little girl's hand as his eyes took in every detail. "It is an honor to meet you, Miss Sydney."  
  
The little girl giggled shyly. "The honor is mine, Sir." She answered politely.  
  
Sam glanced warily at Miss Parker and the elder Sydney. The child was adorable. In her ruffled emerald green dress and matching hair ribbons, she looked like a little porcelain doll. Her hair looked feather soft but it was the child's eyes that held Sam enthralled. The color, shape and setting of her eyes as well as the angles of her small face gave little doubt as to her parentage.  
  
No one who knew Jarod could look at this little girl and not know that he was her father.  
  
Sam sighed. "It's going to be a long night." He said ominously. "I'd better get back to work. It was good seeing you again. Nice meeting you miss." He tipped his head at the girl.  
  
Parker allowed Sam to walk her back to her table before she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Don't be a stranger, Sam. You know how to find me."  
  
The ex-sweeper nodded his head then, with a little bow at the waist, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.  
  
Ethan stood and placed a hand on Parker's arm. "Here he comes." Her brother whispered into her ear.  
  
Parker looked toward the main entrance of the room and saw four men arrive. Standing tall and regal in a formal tuxedo, Jarod was a dashing figure leading the group into the room. The trio following him was dressed in matching black suits and ties, much like Sam had been dressed.  
  
Jarod strode confidently through the crowd, greeting guests occasionally as he scanned the room with his eyes. He gave off an aura of wealth and power. With a snap of his fingers, a waiter appeared at Jarod's side. Jarod plucked a glass from the tray and downed the contents in one long swallow. He exchanged his empty glass for a full one before dismissing the waiter with flip of his wrist.  
  
As Parker stared at Jarod, she felt goose bumps form along her arms. As he came closer, Parker could see Jarod smiling at one person and another. But the smile never reached his eyes. The brown eyes that Parker had always remembered as warm and gentle now held nothing but blankness and stone.  
  
Jarod hadn't noticed Parker's presence as yet. He passed within a few feet of her as he made his way to the table where his parents sat. A shiver ran down Parker's spine as a strange feeling of déjà vu overwhelmed her. Parker suddenly felt as though she was seven years old again, watching her father walk down the hallway with his sweepers. Jarod, followed by his bodyguards, gave Parker the same feeling of awe and fear at his formidable presence.  
  
"Hello, Mother." Jarod purred as he bent to kiss his mother's cheek. The smile on his face still didn't reach his eyes. "Father. I'm so glad that you could come."  
  
Jarod greeted Emily with an embrace. He patted the back of the young man everyone called Jack. "How is school, Jack?" Jarod asked amiably. Jack had once been a prisoner in The Centre. Born as an experiment during the Gemini project, Jack was being raised in as normal a fashion as Jarod's family could provide.  
  
Before Jarod could turn to look for Ethan, Sam appeared at his elbow and spoke softly into his ear. Parker could see a frown crease Jarod's brow as he turned abruptly in her direction.  
  
Parker tried not to flinch when Jarod's piercing glare fixed on her. He downed the second glass of champagne and left the glass sitting on the table before he walked toward her.  
  
"What are you doing here, Parker?" Jarod said coldly.  
  
For a moment, Parker stood frozen. In a heartbeat, she took in his short, business like hairstyle and smoothly shaved chin. He was standing so close his nearness was intimidating. Jarod's eyes were as hard and as cold as granite. Parker found herself wondering where her Jarod had gone. This immovable statue in front of her was not the pretender she once knew.  
  
Parker closed her eyes and took a deep breath to summon her courage. In doing so, she caught his scent. He smelled like champagne and aftershave and Jarod. Her stomach knotted as her body recognized his distinct fragrance. Parker snapped her eyes open in embarrassment.  
  
"Sam said that you needed to talk to me, Parker." Jarod growled. "So start talking."  
  
"I've brought Sydney with me." Parker blurted.  
  
"So?" Jarod asked, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
"Please, come say hello." Parker said as she backed toward the other room.  
  
He followed Parker to the next room but Jarod stopped abruptly at the door to observe the occupants sitting at the table.  
  
"Jarod!" the gray haired man stood and moved quickly toward his old protégé.  
  
When Sydney reached Jarod's side, he opened his arms to pull the younger man into a warm embrace. But Jarod moved quickly, side stepping Sydney's attempt to hug him.  
  
"Hello, Sydney." Jarod said carefully. Slowly, deliberately he turned toward the little girl.  
  
She stood quickly and curtsied formally saying, "Hello, my name is Sydney Catherine Parker. It is good to meet you, Sir."  
  
Jarod's jaw clenched tightly as he wordlessly dragged his gaze over the child. His hands curled into tight fists and he sighed dejectedly. The tension radiating from his body was nonexistent in his voice. He spoke in a calm, almost bored tone.  
  
"What do you want?" he asked blandly.  
  
The little girl blinked a moment then answered. "I only wanted to meet you."  
  
"Then you've gotten what you came for." Jarod replied. "There will be cake in about an hour, I'll have my brother see that you get a piece. Enjoy the rest of your evening."  
  
Without another word, Jarod turned on his heel and strode from the room.  
  
Parker hurried after him and caught him just outside the door. "Jarod!" She exclaimed as she grabbed him by the arm. "Is that it? Is that all you are going to say to her? That little girl is your daughter, Jarod."  
  
Jarod violently yanked his arm away from Parker's hands. "She is your daughter, Parker. I was just the sperm bank."  
  
"I never planned on getting pregnant, Jarod." Parker whispered. "But I don't regret that it happened. She is the best thing that ever happened to me."  
  
Jarod turned his back to her and sighed.  
  
"She's a wonderful child, Jarod. Loving and happy." Parker said tearfully.  
  
"When is her birthday?" Jarod asked casually without turning around.  
  
"July 11th." Parker answered.  
  
Jarod sighed again. He turned to face Parker and said flatly, "Then it was my sin that spawned her, not yours."  
  
Parker could feel panic growing inside her. Jarod seemed so casual about this, he wasn't yelling or pouting. He didn't seem angry. His face was blank, devoid of emotion.  
  
"That doesn't matter anymore, Jarod. What's important is that she is here, now." Parker argued.  
  
Jarod shook his head. "Take her home, Parker."  
  
"Please, Jarod." Parker pleaded. "She just wants to talk to you. Please, give her five minutes. That's all I ask."  
  
"No." He said simply. "I have guests to attend to." Jarod began to turn away.  
  
"Jarod." Parker grabbed at his arm again. "If our relationship ever meant anything to you, anything at all, you'll give my daughter five minutes of your time."  
  
For a long moment, Jarod stood perfectly still. When he turned, Parker expected to see sadness in his eyes, but there was just that same empty void reflecting from the brown depths.  
  
"There was a time," Jarod said calmly. "When what we had meant everything to me. I would have died for you."  
  
"I know." Parker whispered, as tears began to fill her eyes.  
  
"I would have killed for you." He said in an even tone.  
  
"I know." She whispered again.  
  
"I gave you everything I had, everything I was." His voice was emotionless and flat.  
  
"I know." Her tears flowed freely down her cheeks, while Parker struggled against a sob.  
  
"A big part of me died that day, Parker. You killed me that day." Jarod tilted his head at her curiously, as though he was examining an unusual speck on his trousers. "What was left behind has no feeling for you at all. I don't owe you a damned thing. Not even five minutes."  
  
"Please, Jarod." Parker's grip on his arm stopped him again. "She's just a little girl. Don't punish her for what I did. Please."  
  
Jarod shrugged. "Fine. Whatever." He said as he strolled back into the little room.  
  
Sydney was holding the little girl in his arms. The child had her head on the older man's shoulder while he rubbed comforting little circles on her back. Her eyes shimmered with disappointment.  
  
Jarod blinked at the pair. How many times as a child had he wished for Sydney to hold him like that? How often had he needed to be comforted but hadn't been? Part of him wanted to be jealous of the girl but he couldn't manage to summon up even that much of a feeling.  
  
The little girl squirmed out of her uncle's arms and stood solemnly facing her father.  
  
"Sit down." He ordered taking the chair the older Sydney had recently used.  
  
The girl obediently sat as instructed.  
  
"Your mother tells me that you wanted to talk to me." Jarod began.  
  
The little girl nodded. "I. I brought you a present." Little Sydney stuttered shyly. Digging among the ruffles of her dress, she pulled a PEZ dispenser from her pocket. The top was shaped like a small cat.  
  
"Momma and Uncle Sydney said that you collect these." She declared proudly as she handed him the toy.  
  
Jarod took the plastic piece and rolled it curiously in one hand. "I used to." He said. "But I gave them all away." Jarod added as he handed the candy back.  
  
Sydney tilted her head at him in a gesture that Jarod recognized as his own. "Why?"  
  
He shrugged. "It was time to put aside childish things. It was time to grow up."  
  
"How do you know when it's time to grow up?" She asked inquisitively.  
  
"When you realize that dreams aren't real, and wishes never come true then you know it's time to grow up." Jarod answered solemnly.  
  
"But I wished that I could come see you." She quipped. "That wish came true."  
  
Jarod smiled. "Then I guess you aren't ready to grow up yet."  
  
Sydney frowned, her little face wrinkled with concentration. "I don't think I ever want to grow up." She pouted.  
  
Jarod patted her head. "Some people never do. I honestly hope that you get to be one of those lucky few."  
  
The little girl pondered that for a few moments.  
  
Jarod sighed and abruptly stood up. "I really need to get back to my guests."  
  
"I understand." The child said.  
  
Jarod reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a business card. "If you ever need anything," He said as he handed the placard to the girl, "cash or a car, maybe a lawyer or something like that, you call that number. My secretary will make sure that you get whatever you need."  
  
Little Sydney beamed as though the card was a priceless artifact and hugged the paper close to her chest.  
  
Jarod shrugged and started for the door.  
  
Just as he left the little room he heard the girl's small voice call to him. "Happy birthday, Daddy."  
  
Jarod kept walking.  
  
  
  
  
  
End part1 


	2. Your pretender doesn't live here

Disclaimer: The Characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots and The Center are all property of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and are used without permission. Blah, blah, blah, yea, yea just get on with it. No money has been involved here and no infringement is intended. 12/30/02  
  
  
  
"Human life begins on the other side of despair." Jean-Paul Sartre  
  
  
  
The Other Side of Despair Part 2  
  
  
  
The doorbell was ringing.  
  
Jarod moaned and tried to ignore it. Sunshine was streaming into the bedroom but he didn't care. With a sigh, he rolled over and bumped into the warm lump sleeping beside him.  
  
The party last night had gone well. Jarod had been able to finalize a couple of important business deals. He had then proceeded to pursue his role as a millionaire playboy. And he had played his part admirably. Jarod had freely imbibed various types of alcohol during the evening as evidenced by the throbbing ache in his temples this morning. He usually drank a lot at such functions, it was expected of him after all. But most nights, he restrained himself to just enough alcohol to carry a slight buzz. Last night he'd tried to drown the memories that Miss Parker had brought with her.  
  
Jarod hadn't spoken to Parker after the brief meeting with the little girl. But he had known she was still at the party. Jarod had felt her eyes on him for the next hour. True to his word, Jarod had sent a waiter to Parker's table with several pieces of birthday cake. He had surreptitiously watched the little girl as she happily ate her dessert.  
  
Jarod had been chatting amiably with his blonde companion for the evening when he noticed Parker leaving the party. Once she had gone, Jarod had switched from drinking champagne to scotch. He hadn't drunken himself into a stupor. That would have been unwise in a room full of important clients. Jarod could be a mean drunk and he did not want to alienate any of those businessmen.  
  
Jarod had gotten just drunk enough to feel numb, but not so drunk that he could have hurt anyone.  
  
It had been after two in the morning before the party really started to wind down. Jarod had come up to his apartment with the blonde bombshell he'd met and he had allowed her to entertain him for a while.  
  
Jarod blinked a few times and looked over at the girl sleeping next to him. For a moment, he tried to remember her name. Sherry, Shelly, Sharon. It was something like that. He supposed that he could ask her again. He could blame the drink for not remembering. But frankly, it wasn't worth the effort. He had not been that drunk, Jarod just hadn't found her name important enough to pay any attention to it.  
  
It had surprised Jarod when he had first realized how callously a wealthy man could treat a beautiful girl and not face any repercussions. He had quickly learned that as long as he was forthright and admitted that he was a womanizing cad, ladies would continue to throw themselves at him and he could use them as he wished. And used them he had. There had been a steady stream of sexual partners in Jarod's life the last few years. But he hadn't felt anything for any of them. It had been fun, a distraction, and Jarod supposed that such promiscuous behavior was expected of him.  
  
The doorbell rang again and Jarod sighed. He sat up and swatted the girl firmly on the bottom as he reached for the trousers on the floor.  
  
"Hey!" She squealed.  
  
"Time to go, honey." Jarod said, fastening his pants.  
  
Jarod walked barefoot to the front door wearing nothing but his wrinkled tuxedo trousers. He yawned and raked a hand through his hair as he grumbled through his apartment. It was times like these that Jarod wished he had a full time maid or a butler to answer the door. But Jarod enjoyed his privacy. He'd never been able to tolerate any live-in help.  
  
Jarod wasn't really surprised to see his old mentor, Sydney, standing alone in the hallway when the door finally opened.  
  
Jarod leaned one forearm casually against the edge of the door and sighed in resignation. "How did you get up here?" He asked bluntly.  
  
Sydney raised his eyebrows slightly. "And good morning to you too, Jarod."  
  
Jarod closed his eyes and shook his head. "Good morning, Sydney. How did you get up here?"  
  
Sydney shrugged. "I browbeat Sam until he gave in."  
  
"Hmm." Jarod grumbled. "I'll have to talk with him about granting favors to ex-employers."  
  
Jarod stood aside and waved Sydney into the large living room. Jarod strode to a counter along one wall and pulled a small silver case from a drawer. He opened the case and retrieved a cigarette, tapping the filter against his palm. Sydney watched in fascination as Jarod stuck the butt between his lips and lit the cigarette with a nearby lighter. The younger man took a long drag, exhaling twin jets of smoke through his nostrils.  
  
Sydney frowned in disapproval. "Cigarettes, Jarod?"  
  
Jarod blinked at Sydney, then looked curiously at the burning tobacco in his hand as though he hadn't realized it was there. He shrugged. "I only smoke when I'm hung over." Jarod explained.  
  
"How often is that?" Sydney asked sarcastically.  
  
Jarod grinned. "Often enough." He took another long inhale of nicotine.  
  
Sydney crossed his arms and looked at Jarod. "I guess you celebrated too much last night."  
  
"If I had celebrated too much," Jarod said, pointing his cigarette at Sydney, "I would still be in bed and you would still be in the hallway."  
  
Jarod smirked, and dragged at the quickly diminishing cigarette once again. He closed his eyes and blew a smoke ring into the air. "You know, if you smoke one of these fast enough, you can get a nice nicotine buzz."  
  
Sydney frowned again. "You know if you smoke them long enough you can get a nice coating of tar on your lungs."  
  
Jarod turned away and pulled another cigarette from the case. "Stop it." He groused. "You sound like my mother." Jarod used the end of the first cigarette to light his second before he crushed the butt into a nearby tray.  
  
The beautiful golden haired girl strolled into the room. "Hello." She said.  
  
"Hello." Sydney replied.  
  
"Goodbye." Jarod said. "I'm busy now, hon. I've got to take this meeting." He gestured toward Sydney.  
  
The girl wrapped her arms around Jarod's neck and kissed him passionately. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend, Jarod?" She purred as she clung to him, her body pressed close to his.  
  
With the cigarette still smoking between his fingers, Jarod reached up and pulled the girl's arms away from his neck, deliberately holding her away from him.  
  
"If I remembered your name, sweetheart, I would. But I don't. So I can't." Jarod dropped a quick peck on her nose, turned her around and gave her a little shove toward the front door.  
  
The look of hurt that flashed in her eyes lasted only a moment before it turned into anger. "You are a real son of bitch, do you know that?"  
  
Jarod casually inhaled from his cigarette. "Yep. Took years of practice to get it just right." He lazily studied the puffs of smoke that blew in the air.  
  
"Bastard." She growled. Without another word, the young lady stomped across the room and left, slamming the door behind her.  
  
Jarod grinned slyly then pushed a button on an intercom attached to the wall. Sydney could hear a buzzer sound.  
  
"Good morning, sir." A familiar voice emanated from the device.  
  
"Sam." Jarod said perfunctorily. "There is a young lady headed down in the penthouse elevator. See that she gets a ride home." After a moment's thought Jarod added, "Is Argyle here yet this morning?"  
  
"Yes sir." Was the answer.  
  
Jarod smirked. "Then have him take her in the limo."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"And Sam." Jarod said. "You and I will need to talk about unannounced visitors."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
The intercom clicked as Jarod terminated the conversation.  
  
Sydney frowned with concern. "I never meant to get Sam into trouble."  
  
Jarod shrugged. "He's not in trouble. But if I didn't give him a hard time about it, he may start forgetting who's the boss here." He said with a smile.  
  
Jarod drew one last long breath off of his cigarette and crushed it out in the ashtray. He started walking toward the kitchen. "I need coffee. Do you want some?"  
  
Sydney nodded and followed him into the next room.  
  
The kitchen was a huge modern affair with a multitude of copper pots hanging from one wall. The counters were filled with a variety of appliances including an espresso machine and a pasta maker. The room gleamed with marble and steel surfaces. It looked like the type of place where a chef could televise a cooking show.  
  
Sydney looked around curiously as Jarod pushed a button on an automatic drip coffee maker. As he pulled mugs from a cabinet, Jarod noticed the older man's interest in the surroundings.  
  
"I occasionally get the urge to cook." Jarod said, as though that simple statement could explain the grandeur of the room.  
  
"It looks like you could cook for an army in here." Sydney observed.  
  
Jarod shrugged. "I don't do big seven course meals very often. I make stir- fry a lot. My favorite kitchen tool is my wok."  
  
Sydney grinned. "I would have bet on the ice cream maker."  
  
Jarod's face took on a cold expression as he handed Sydney a cup of steaming coffee. "I don't have one." He said icily. "You didn't come here to discuss my culinary preferences, Sydney. What do you want?"  
  
Sydney sighed and stared thoughtfully into his cup for a moment. "I've known your daughter from the moment she first came into this world. We've spent time together practically every day of her life. I thought you might like to know more about her."  
  
Jarod blinked at his old mentor, took a long sip from his mug and said, "I honestly don't give a damn."  
  
Sydney frowned. "Family used to be so important to you, Jarod. I can't believe that you would abandon your own child."  
  
"I haven't abandoned anyone." Jarod said casually. "I've been right here for nearly five years now. Anyone looking for me would have had no trouble finding me." He paused for a moment then added angrily, "I'm listed in the phone book for Christ's sake. I didn't make the decision to keep her out of my life before."  
  
"But it is your decision now." Sydney said pointedly.  
  
Jarod sighed heavily and crossed his arms over his bare chest. "I can talk to my people and make arrangements for financial support. My lawyers will want a paternity test but I'm willing to forgo that."  
  
"So you do admit that you are her father." Sydney said questioningly.  
  
Jarod glared at him coldly. "I never doubted it." He shrugged. "Her parentage is pretty obvious, to me anyway."  
  
Sydney smiled, encouraged. "You don't know the half of it. Sydney is a very bright little girl, a full grade ahead of other children her age. She's very special."  
  
Jarod frowned. "Special, like I was?" He snarled. "Do you give her sims to perform for you?" He asked cruelly.  
  
"No, Jarod." Sydney answered sadly. "As a matter of fact, her teachers wanted to advance her through a few more grades. But they have rules about that kind of thing. They needed her to perform an I.Q. test." Sydney spoke quickly. "Parker wouldn't allow it."  
  
Jarod scoffed.  
  
"Parker thinks it is important that Sydney stays in school with children close to her own age. She has friends and play dates and plenty of toys appropriate for a five year old." Sydney went on. "I sometimes give her puzzles to figure out, admittedly some are the same ones I gave you at that age. But they are games. Things created to challenge her intelligence. The only pretends she and I do are make believe tea parties with her dolls."  
  
Jarod nodded without comment.  
  
"She is a healthy, happy child, Jarod. She has a good life."  
  
"Then she doesn't need me around to complicate matters." Jarod said simply.  
  
Sydney shook his head sadly. "What's happened to you, Jarod?"  
  
He shrugged. "I learned a valuable lesson, Sydney." Jarod said as he turned to pour another cup of coffee. "When you care, you can get hurt. Life is easier when nothing is important to you."  
  
Sydney looked at the younger man sadly. "It may be easier, but I wouldn't call it a life. Unless you have loving, caring relationships in your life, you are little more than a shell of a human being." Sydney stressed. "It is the people who love us, the people we love, that make us who we are."  
  
Jarod stared at Sydney blankly for a moment. "This is who I am, Sydney." Jarod shrugged. "This is how I survive. Day by day." He gazed into nothingness for a moment then said, "You once told me that it is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all."  
  
He glanced at Sydney who nodded in recollection.  
  
"I've learned that you're wrong." Jarod said flatly. "You can't know that your life is empty if you've never experienced its fullness." He shrugged. "Ignorance is bliss."  
  
"Are you happy?" Sydney asked.  
  
Jarod drained his coffee cup and placed it in the sink. "Happiness is a relative thing, Sydney." He said nonchalantly. "I have my work to keep me challenged. My family keeps me company when I want that. My influence and money ensure that I have a great many friends." He lifted one shoulder in amusement. "And I have numerous choices when it comes to female companionship. All unfettered and uncomplicated."  
  
"But are you happy?" Sydney repeated.  
  
"Happy enough." Jarod answered.  
  
Sydney shook his head. "There was a time when that would not have satisfied you, Jarod."  
  
"Well, it's all I need now. Asking for more is just asking for trouble and heart ache."  
  
Sydney sighed. "Her betrayal cut very deeply, didn't it?" He asked sorrowfully.  
  
"You should know. You were there." Jarod grumbled.  
  
"Is this your way of exacting revenge on Miss Parker?" Sydney asked angrily. "Spurn her little girl in order to hurt her?"  
  
"No." Jarod denied. "I extracted retribution from Parker in full, years ago. In doing so, I evened all scores and settled our debts."  
  
Sydney frowned in puzzlement. "How?"  
  
Jarod stared at Sydney open mouthed. As the truth dawned on him, Jarod started to laugh coldly. "She never told you." He said wryly.  
  
"Evidently not." Sydney said.  
  
"I'd have thought you would have noticed the bruises." Jarod murmured ominously.  
  
Sydney shook his head.  
  
Jarod laughed again. It was a cold, menacing sound that made Sydney's arms break out in goose flesh. "Leave it to Parker." Jarod hissed. "If the truth doesn't suit her, she simply re-invents it or ignores it all together." He sighed. "She hasn't changed."  
  
"But she has." Sydney urged. "Becoming a mother has changed her. With The Centre out of her life, the compassionate, caring person Parker had kept hidden for so long has blossomed. She is a remarkable lady and a wonderful mother."  
  
"It sounds as though you've built very nice lives for yourselves." Jarod commented. "Take your family back to Delaware, Sydney. Make sure that they continue to have nice lives."  
  
"They aren't my family, Jarod, they are yours. I'm just watching over them for you." Sydney soothed.  
  
"No." Jarod said seriously. "They are yours. I give them to you. You've already invested so much of your heart in that little girl and her mom."  
  
"What about you?" Sydney asked. "What about your heart?"  
  
Jarod chuckled morosely. "The thing is, if you pretend to heartless long enough, you forget what it was like to have one. My heart has been gone for a long time now, Sydney."  
  
"I don't believe that." Sydney scoffed. "You have such a big heart, so much potential for caring."  
  
"I did once." Jarod agreed. "A long time ago. But I'm not the same person you knew, Sydney. Your pretender doesn't live here anymore. He's been missing for years. He isn't coming back."  
  
"Jarod,"  
  
"No, Sydney." Jarod interrupted. "I do appreciate what you are trying to do. But the fact is that your efforts are wasted on me. It's over. The Jarod you knew is dead. Mourn him and go on with your life." He crossed the kitchen and stood for a moment in the doorway. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have some phone calls to make. Can you find your way out?"  
  
Sydney nodded in stunned silence.  
  
"Goodbye, Sydney." Jarod said with finality. He then turned and left Sydney staring speechlessly after him.  
  
  
  
End part2  
  
The next part will bump this story into an R rating. Set your browsers accordingly, or add the story title to your favorites list! Enjoy-- 


	3. Dreams of betrayal

Disclaimer: The Characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots and The Center are all property of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and are used without permission. Blah, blah, blah, yea, yea just get on with it. No money has been involved here and no infringement is intended. 01/01/03  
  
  
  
"Human life begins on the other side of despair." Jean-Paul Sartre  
  
  
  
The Other Side of Despair Part3  
  
  
  
Miss Parker sat in an over stuffed chair in the hotel suite, watching her daughter play on the floor. Sydney sat nearby pretending to read a book. The three of them had gone sight seeing for several hours during the afternoon. The long walk and jet lag, combined with the fact that Parker hadn't slept well last night, had left her tired and irritable.  
  
She frowned at Sydney as he glanced at her over the edge of his book. Parker knew that Syd had gone to see Jarod this morning but the psychiatrist had been annoyingly close mouthed about the visit. As they had toured the required sights of Los Angeles during the day, Parker had tried to pry more information out of her older companion. But he had avoided her questions, choosing instead to distract her by turning his attention toward her little girl.  
  
Something in the way Sydney treated his godchild during the afternoon, made Parker think that things had not gone well with Jarod. Syd had spoiled the child unrelentingly and until a short while ago he had been either carrying her around or snuggling her closely. He seemed to be trying to atone for the disappointment Jarod had caused her.  
  
Parker glanced at little Sydney as she played with one of the treasures her uncle had purchased earlier. The child hummed tunelessly to herself as she played. Parker felt desolation clawing at her heart as she realized that her daughter would have to repeat the paternal relationship that Parker had had with her own father. Little Sydney would do anything right now for Jarod's approval, while he was doing his best to ignore her existence.  
  
When the little girl felt her mother's gaze, she turned and smiled brightly. Parker couldn't help smiling back. The girl's grin was infectious. Parker vowed that her child would never feel as alone as she had when she was young. If Jarod didn't want to know his daughter, that was his problem. Parker and Syd could give young Sydney all the love she would need in her life.  
  
Their flight back to Delaware was scheduled to leave tomorrow afternoon. Once they had put L.A. behind them, Parker would never look back. She would leave today if she thought they could get tickets. But with the Thanksgiving holiday coming in just a few days, all the flights were booked. Parker would just have to be patient.  
  
Parker stifled a yawn.  
  
"Why don't you go lie down for a while?" Sydney asked as he put aside his book. "I'll keep an eye on Sydney."  
  
Parker sighed. She was very tired. "Maybe just for an hour or so before dinner."  
  
She stood and stretched. "You mind Uncle Sydney, okay?" Parker said to her daughter.  
  
"Okay, Momma. I'll be good." The child answered.  
  
After giving the girl a quick hug, Parker went to her room, kicked off her shoes and sprawled out on the bed. She stared forlornly at the ceiling for several minutes, pondering current events in her life.  
  
Parker still couldn't believe how different Jarod had become. She had expected him to be angry, of course. Parker had kept him from knowing his daughter for the first five years of her life. But the warm-hearted, affectionate man Parker had always known would still have welcomed his child with open arms. Jarod had always been so desperate for affection that the unconditional love from his own offspring would have been like a miracle to him.  
  
But the man she had found last night hadn't been the pretender Parker had grown up with. The cold, isolated, business-like gentleman that Jarod had become was totally foreign to her. He had little regard for Parker or for her daughter.  
  
Parker understood his aversion to her. Parker had hurt him terribly. She had made a colossal error in judgment that had cost her the best friend she'd ever had. Jarod would never forgive her for what had happened just over six years ago. Parker doubted that she would ever forgive herself. But the results had changed the course of her life. Parker wouldn't trade the life she had now for anything.  
  
What bothered her was Jarod's rejection of his own little girl.  
  
As Parker drifted into sleep, memories from those long ago days chased her into unconsciousness and unfolded in her dreams.  
  
-- -- -- -- -- --  
  
"He'll never fall for it." Parker gasped.  
  
"I think you under estimate your own talents." Lyle purred.  
  
Parker stared at her brother in shock. As wicked and vile a creature as she knew him to be, Parker was still dismayed at Lyle's disturbing plan.  
  
"I have to agree with your brother." Raines wheezed.  
  
Parker glared at him. The three of them were gathered in her father's office. Since Mr. Parker had sacrificed his life over the scrolls in Europe, Raines had taken over as Chairman at The Centre. Regardless of what genetic tests had proven, Miss Parker would never think of Raines as her father. And she could never think of this room and belonging to anyone but the man she had always called daddy.  
  
Things at The Centre had grown increasing uncomfortable after Raines was put in charge. The pursuit of Jarod had taken on a frantic desperation that made even Miss Parker nervous. Loyalties were constantly in question and no one trusted each other.  
  
Now Lyle had come up with this idea that made Parker's skin crawl.  
  
"Come on, Sis." Lyle urged. "Use the natural abilities God gave you. You are a beautiful woman."  
  
Parker tried to suppress the shudder that ran down her spine as Lyle's gazed raked along her figure.  
  
"I think," Lyle continued, "that he already has an interest in you along those lines. You just need to encourage things a little."  
  
Parker swallowed. "He won't trust me. He won't let his guard down one bit if I'm around."  
  
Lyle scoffed. "Jarod is a healthy male of the species. Trust me, Parker. Turn on the charm, use a little seductive persuasion and I think you can accomplish a great deal."  
  
Parker squirmed in her seat.  
  
"Who knows," Lyle gloated. "It might do you some good. It's been long time since you've," he paused suggestively. He shrugged. "Let him ring your bell if you want. You've been way too tense lately."  
  
"That's not funny, Lyle." Parker hissed.  
  
"Miss Parker," Raines growled. "Current efforts to capture Jarod are increasingly unprofitable. Our lack of progress is an embarrassment. If Lyle's plan is successful, the Triumvirate will surely reward both of my children for their individual roles in the endeavor."  
  
Parker sighed. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't reveal such vulnerability to these ghouls. "Once Jarod is back in The Centre, I am gone. That's still the deal."  
  
Raines shrugged in acceptance.  
  
Parker shook her head. Things were definitely getting bad. She was actually going to agree to this. Parker had learned to live with a lot of terrible things. She could learn to live with this. She was a Parker. For centuries, the Parker's had been selling their souls in order to get what they wanted. Miss Parker took a deep breath and gave in to her family's curse. She handed the devil her soul.  
  
"I'll have to wait for him to contact me." She said. "Then we'll lay out the details."  
  
Raines grinned wickedly while Lyle clapped his hands like an excited child.  
  
Parker stood and left the room. She strode briskly down the hallway toward her own office. Once safely behind her locked office doors, Parker leaned desolately against the wall. All she could do now was wait and try to come to terms with the bargain she had just made.  
  
Parker didn't need to wait long. Jarod called her at home two nights later.  
  
"What," Parker barked into the phone.  
  
"If you believe our lives are preordained by fate, why are we given so many choices, so many paths to follow?" Jarod was obviously feeling philosophical tonight.  
  
"Jarod." Parker sighed, allowing all the sadness and despair she was feeling to be revealed in her voice.  
  
"Fate doesn't own us, Miss Parker." He said.  
  
"It owns me, Jarod." She whispered. "It always has."  
  
"Only if you allow it to." He said firmly. "You don't have to give in to your family's legacy. You can change your destiny if you want."  
  
A tear trailed down Parker's cheek. Jarod was going to make this so easy. She sniffed just loud enough for him to hear the tears in her voice. "I don't know how to fight it anymore Jarod. It's too hard to fight alone."  
  
For a long moment, the silence on the other end was deafening. Parker was beginning to think she'd overdone it and frightened him away when Jarod finally whispered, "But you've never really been alone, Miss Parker."  
  
There was another long pause. "I would never leave you all alone." Jarod's voice was barely audible.  
  
Parker's heart wrenched in her chest. Her tears of self-loathing and misery came out sounding like sobs of loneliness.  
  
"Parker?" Jarod murmured into her ear. "Are you okay?"  
  
"No." She sobbed honestly.  
  
Jarod played right in to Parker's hands. "Parker. It's time to choose a new path." He said gently.  
  
Parker sniffed.  
  
"Meet me tomorrow in Dover, in front of the bank." Jarod said quickly. He didn't need to tell her which bank. Parker knew that he meant Dovertown Bank, where the two of them had partnered briefly when they rescued Mr. Fenigore from bank robbers.  
  
"Jarod, I can't." she said woefully. If she gave in too easily, Jarod would be suspicious.  
  
"You can." Jarod said firmly. "The choice is yours. I'll be waiting."  
  
Parker heard a click and the line went dead.  
  
The next day was dreary and overcast. Parker arrived at the Dovertown Bank just before noon. She didn't see Jarod anywhere around so she crossed the street and sat on a bench on the corner. From here, Parker could see the front doors of the bank as well as traffic coming from either direction. She settled in to wait.  
  
Several hours passed while Parker sat at the corner and watched the rest of the world go by. She had stopped actively looking for Jarod after the first ninety minutes. She just sat there, staring dejectedly at the cars that passed. Her depression deepened as Parker began to wonder if Jarod would even show up.  
  
Parker was so wrapped up in her own misery, that she nearly jumped out of her skin when he suddenly sat down beside her on the bench.  
  
"Sorry I'm late." Jarod said with a grin.  
  
"You never said what time you wanted to meet." Parker grumbled. "I've been here for hours."  
  
Jarod shrugged. "In all honesty, I've been here since dawn. But I needed to make sure you were alone."  
  
Parker shivered with dread and her lower lip trembled. "Hey." Jarod said soothingly. "Don't fall apart on me, Parker. I haven't got any of Ocee's herbal tea." He put an arm around Parker's shoulders and pulled her gently against his chest.  
  
Parker sniffed and pulled away slowly. She sat very straight and erect. Jarod would expect her to be nervous and wary at first. She had to play this just right if it was going to work.  
  
"What now?" she asked.  
  
Jarod stood and held a hand out toward her. "Now you take the next step on that new path, Miss Parker." He said gently. "Take my hand and come with me."  
  
Parker looked up and gazed desperately into Jarod's eyes. He was smiling reassuringly at her. His eyes were full of warmth and encouragement. Parker hated herself as she took his hand and allowed him to lead her away.  
  
Hand in hand they walked down the sidewalk for a few blocks to a nearby parking deck. Jarod led Parker to a silver four by four vehicle. He unlocked the doors and helped Parker into the passenger seat before sliding in behind the steering wheel.  
  
"Are you hungry?" Jarod asked her as he started the car.  
  
Parker shook her head.  
  
"We'll just go then." He said simply.  
  
Jarod expertly maneuvered the car out of the lot and on to the busy street. The two of them sat in awkward silence for some time while Jarod drove away from Dover on the expressway. Parker picked nervously at the hem of her short skirt until Jarod reached over and laid one hand over hers to settle her.  
  
Slowly, cautiously, Parker moved her hand so that her fingers could intertwine loosely with Jarod's. They rode in silence for a long time, Jarod's hand clasped to hers in Parker's lap. After a while, the awkwardness began to dissipate as they relaxed in each other's presence. Parker leaned her head back against the headrest and watched Jarod's face as he drove.  
  
Jarod seemed wary, not out of fear but out of concern for Parker's current state of mind. He would glance at Parker every so often, casting reassuring smiles in her direction. Parker felt the protectiveness emanating from him. She knew that Jarod's only thought was to take care of her. A warm feeling of contentment washed over Parker and she permitted herself to enjoy the moment. She didn't realize that she had fallen asleep until she woke some time later.  
  
The sun was just beginning to set in the distance when Parker was wakened by the sound of gravel beneath the tires. They had pulled off the main road and were headed up a long driveway to a small white house. Jarod stopped the car and killed the engine. He looked at Parker expectantly as she glanced around the property.  
  
The house was a small isolated ranch with a wooden porch that wrapped around the sides. A porch swing hung serenely from a beam not far from the front door. A wicker rocking chair was positioned in such a way that an occupant would be easily able to chat with someone on the swing. Summer flowers blossomed along the walk and baskets of pansies lined the porch railing.  
  
"It seems very nice." Parker said.  
  
Jarod nodded. "It's restful." He said with a smile. "Good for mending a troubled soul."  
  
Parker glanced at him sadly. If he knew how troubled she really was, he'd be long gone by now.  
  
They went into the house as the sky darkened.  
  
"I'm hungry." Jarod said almost apologetically.  
  
Parker shrugged and followed him into the kitchen. She removed her suit jacket, kicked off her shoes and moved to the counter to make some coffee. Jarod had evidently been here before. He knew where everything was located in the cupboards and he gave Parker directions when she couldn't find mugs.  
  
For several minutes, they puttered domestically in the kitchen. Jarod warmed some soup in a pan and made some sandwiches while Parker washed a couple of garden fresh tomatoes and sliced them onto a plate. When the food was ready, Parker did little more than pick at hers. Jarod ate his food ravenously then stole half of Parker's sandwich and ate that too.  
  
Parker swallowed some of her coffee, nearly choking when Jarod smiled brightly at her. He was so content, so relaxed. Jarod's trust in her was so undeserved. Parker felt like the worst kind of criminal. A miserable tear escaped one eye and ran down Parker's cheek.  
  
"Hey." Jarod exclaimed, reaching across the table to clasp her hand. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Oh don't." Parker moaned pathetically. "Don't be nice to me." She put her face in her hands and began to weep quietly.  
  
Jarod sighed. He stood up and pulled Parker into a tender embrace. She allowed him to hold her close as her body shook with sobs. After a moment, Jarod scooped her up into his arms and he carried Parker into the next room. He curled up on a couch with Parker in his lap and he rocked her gently, making soothing circles on her back with one hand.  
  
Parker knew that Jarod was misunderstanding her distress. He was ignorantly trying to comfort her while she was battling her conscience in order to betray him. The irony of it all was nearly unbearable.  
  
"Hush now. Everything will be all right, Parker." Jarod murmured.  
  
Parker looked up at him, startled. "You are an idiot." She said to him.  
  
Jarod grinned crookedly at her. "Why is that?" he asked chuckling.  
  
Rather than answer him, Parker took his face in her hands and kissed him tenderly on the lips.  
  
When she pulled back, Parker watched Jarod's face as his eyelids fluttered open and he gazed into her eyes in wonder.  
  
"Parker?" He whispered in awe.  
  
Parker leaned against him and kissed Jarod again, more deeply this time. They were both breathing heavily by the time the kiss ended.  
  
"Parker." Jarod moaned. "Are you sure about this?"  
  
In one fluid motion, Parker hiked up her skirt and threw one leg over Jarod's body so that she was straddling his lap. She could feel his body's reaction pressing against her inner thigh. When Parker kissed him, she could taste her own tears on his lips. She shared the salty flavor with Jarod by flicking her tongue delicately into his mouth.  
  
"Are you sure?" Jarod groaned against her lips.  
  
She answered him wordlessly by pulling at her blouse and fumbling with the pearly buttons until the garment was a puddle of silk on the floor. Parker took Jarod's hand and brought it up to cup one lace covered breast.  
  
Jarod closed his eyes and sighed.  
  
Parker shifted her weight, pressing her hips against his. She squeezed him gently between her thighs making him groan as she applied pressure to the bulge in his jeans.  
  
"Parker," Jarod whispered prayerfully. "Are you sure about this?" he repeated.  
  
"Shut up, Jarod." Parker murmured as she nibbled on his lower lip. "Please just shut up and love me."  
  
Jarod exhaled triumphantly. He wrapped his arms tightly around Parker's waist and stood up. Her arms curled around his neck while she buried her face against his shoulder. With her legs tightly circling Jarod's waist, Parker held on as he carried her down a hallway to the bedroom. Jarod kicked the door closed behind them and he fell backwards onto the bed, pulling Parker down on top of him.  
  
Jarod kissed and nipped at Parker's flesh as he quickly but tenderly divested her of the rest of her clothing. He rapidly shed his own clothes and lay beside her while they kissed passionately again and again. Jarod finally covered her with his body and nestled himself between Parker's thighs. When their bodies joined, they each gasped in wonder at the sensation.  
  
In the minutes that followed, Parker forgot everything else as Jarod brought her to a pinnacle she'd never known before. The passion he showed her was all the more incredible because at that moment, Parker knew that she was loved. Jarod loved her and nothing else mattered. The Centre and Raines and Parker's pact with the devil all dissolved in a shattering climax that tore a delighted cry from her throat.  
  
Jarod lay heavily on top of her, his head pillowed against Parker's breast, as they both panted in the aftermath of their exertions.  
  
"I honestly did not plan this, Parker." He huffed in amusement.  
  
The innocent comment brought Parker crashing back to reality. 'Tell him.' Her mind whispered traitorously. 'Tell him everything now and you can both laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Let Jarod win.'  
  
She didn't say anything. Instead, Parker pulled Jarod closer and kissed him until she had fanned his passion into gear once again.  
  
In the several hours that followed, Jarod gained an intimate knowledge of every inch on Parker's body. If he noticed the contraceptive patch on her lower back, he never mentioned it, nor did he wonder what had caused Parker to even use one.  
  
The two of them reached for each other over and over during the night. While in the throws of passion, Parker could forget about the rest of the world. When her body was intertwined with Jarod's there was nothing that could hurt her. Parker allowed his arms to become a haven for a few precious hours in the dark.  
  
At some point in the wee hours of the night, Jarod lay curled against Parker's back, his arms wrapped lovingly around her waist. He absently caressed little circles around her navel with one thumb while he talked about the places they would go and the things he wanted to show her.  
  
"The world is full of such joy and wonder, Parker." Jarod whispered into her hair. "I want to show it all to you. I want to share everything with you. We'll be happy, I promise."  
  
Parker was thankful for the darkness so that Jarod could not see her tears as she wept silently in his arms.  
  
  
  
The real world returned with the sun the next morning.  
  
When Parker woke, she had half hoped that Jarod would already be awake so that she would be unable to complete her plan. But he had been sound asleep with a contented smile curling the corners of his mouth. Parker had slid quietly from the bed and had taken her time getting dressed, still hoping that Jarod would wake before she was ready. She refused to do anything without her clothes on. It seemed too horrifying to deceive him while she stood naked.  
  
Once Parker had finished dressing and again looked like The Centre's intractable Miss Parker, she reached into her suit pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Without bothering to be terribly quiet about it, she wrapped the chain around one of the metal posts in the headboard. With a resounding click, Parker tightly fastened a metal shackle around each of Jarod's wrists.  
  
The sound of the lock clicking into place seemed huge in the silent room and Jarod woke with a start to find his arms above his head chained to the bed.  
  
At first he was confused. "Parker? What are you doing?"  
  
"I told you that you were an idiot." She growled at him. She crossed the room to the telephone, plucked the receiver from the cradle and quickly dialed a number. She kept her back to Jarod as she waited for an answer.  
  
"It's done." Parker hissed into the phone. "Yes." She answered after a pause. Another pause followed while someone on the opposite end of the line spoke. "I have no idea, you'll have to trace the call, I'll leave the connection open for a few minutes."  
  
With that, Parker dropped the receiver onto the end table and turned to look at Jarod. He still had not quite figured out what was happening. Parker scoffed. For someone as intelligent as Jarod was supposed to be, he could be pretty dense sometimes.  
  
Parker picked up a hairbrush from a nearby vanity and started raking it violently through her hair. She could see from the look on Jarod's face exactly when the truth began to dawn on him. His mouth gaped open for a moment then he dragged himself into an awkward sitting position with his wrists manacled at his side.  
  
"Parker." He growled menacingly.  
  
Parker picked the phone back up and barked into it. "Have you got it?" She asked. "Fine." Ending the connection and tossing the phone aside, Parker glared defiantly at Jarod as he glared angrily at her.  
  
With a sigh, Parker picked his jeans up off the floor and approached Jarod cautiously.  
  
"A sweeper team will be here with in the next half hour. You'd better put these on." She said, holding the pants out for him.  
  
"No." Jarod ground out between clenched teeth.  
  
Parker tilted her head at him curiously. "Do you really want them to find you like this, Jarod? Do you want them to cart you away totally naked?"  
  
Parker could see Jarod struggling with his options until he finally allowed her to slide the denim up his legs and provide him with a little decency.  
  
"You don't want to do this, Parker." Jarod said softly.  
  
"You're right, I don't." She whispered wearily.  
  
"Then let me go." He urged. "Just hand me a paper clip and leave the room for a few minutes."  
  
Parker's eyes were huge as she slowly shook her head. "No."  
  
"Come on, Parker." Jarod begged. "We made love last night. It was incredible. Don't throw away something so special."  
  
Parker fought the tears that shimmered in her eyes. She could not allow herself to be teary eyed and vulnerable when Lyle and the sweepers arrived.  
  
"Last night was a dream, Jarod." She told him sadly. "Dreams aren't real."  
  
"But they can be, Parker." Jarod urged. "They can be real if you wish for them hard enough."  
  
Parker laughed caustically. "Haven't you realized by now? Wishes are like fairy tales, Jarod. They never come true."  
  
Panic entered Jarod's eyes as the sound of a helicopter began approaching the house. As the sound grew louder, Jarod contorted on the bed and started to kick frantically at the post holding his wrists.  
  
"Parker!" He screamed.  
  
It occurred to Miss Parker that Jarod was only now beginning to accept the dire nature of his situation. He hadn't really believed that she would turn him in. Part of him still trusted her enough to think that she would release him.  
  
Strong gusts of wind and small debris pelted the window as the chopper landed in the yard. Jarod pulled violently at the handcuffs. A moment later, they heard the front door crash open and Lyle's voice called through the house.  
  
"Miss Parker?" Her brother hollered.  
  
For a heartbeat, she and Jarod stared at one another, his eyes pleading with her wordlessly.  
  
"Back here!" Parker called loudly. That was when she saw the last shred of hope vanish from Jarod's eyes.  
  
He gasped as if in pain and for a second, Parker thought he might throw up. Jarod stared at her in astonishment; unshed tears shimmering in his brown depths. When Lyle and his sweepers appeared at the bedroom door, the look of shock and disbelief on Jarod's face turned in to one of black rage.  
  
As the sweepers approached him, Jarod growled in anger and lashed out with his bare feet. He managed to get one or two good shots in but there were to many of them. By the time Sydney trailed in to the room, the sweepers had Jarod pinned face down with his hands bound behind his back.  
  
But that didn't stop Jarod from shouting out his fury.  
  
"Congratulations, Miss Parker." Jarod hissed. "Daddy will be so proud."  
  
Lyle made matters worse by giving Parker a pat on the back as well.  
  
Jarod laughed maniacally. "Do you know what's the worst part of it all?" He struggled as a sweeper hauled him to his feet. "I was so worried." Jarod growled. "You are so much more experienced than I am and I was really concerned about your enjoyment. So I really went the extra mile so to speak. Don't you agree?" He hissed cruelly.  
  
"You should have told me it was just a farce." Jarod went on coldly. "I would have saved myself the effort. I could have simply fucked your brains out like every other moron who has ever crawled between your legs."  
  
Parker didn't flinch. But inside she felt as though she'd just been hit with a ton of bricks.  
  
Lyle chuckled at the mean comment. "Get him in the chopper." He ordered. Once the sweepers had dragged Jarod kicking and screaming from the room, Lyle looked at Parker curiously. "Well?" he asked.  
  
"Well what?" Parker asked in confusion.  
  
"The extra mile." Lyle purred. "Did you enjoy it satisfactorily?"  
  
Parker lashed out uncontrollably. Her fist made contact with Lyle's chin and he went down with a crash. He sat on the floor rubbing at his jaw with an evil smirk on his face.  
  
"Get me out of here Sydney." Parker rasped. "Take me home."  
  
  
  
Three weeks passed before Parker saw Jarod again. She was standing in the hallway on SL-20 waiting for an elevator. She was on her way to Sydney's office with several file folders that she held clutched to her chest. To a casual observer, Parker looked domineering and regal in her brown pants suit and stiletto heels. But the people who really knew her, Sydney and Broots specifically, had begun to worry about her. Parker rarely slept anymore and the dark circles under eyes were visible even though she tried to cover them with make up.  
  
Raines had, of course, reneged on their agreement. Parker was trapped at The Centre. The depression and despair she felt haunted her continually.  
  
Parker stabbed at the elevator button impatiently. She abruptly froze when she saw two large men dressed like sweepers walking down the hallway toward her. Between them the guards half carried, half dragged a miserable looking creature. Dressed only in drab olive cotton pants, Jarod was barely recognizable.  
  
Jarod wore no shoes and his torso was bare, giving Parker an exquisite view of the damage that had been done to him. Jarod had been viciously and repeatedly beaten. Large yellowing bruises were scattered along his body, mingled against fresher purple marks and brand new black ones. His long hair hung limply in his swollen face to stick cruelly in spots where he was cut and bleeding. The pounding Jarod had received was a professional one, deliberately planned to inflict maximum pain without causing any permanent scarring.  
  
Parker pressed her back against the wall in speechless horror. She prayed that they would pass quickly, before Jarod could notice her presence. The silent plea went unanswered as the dreadful trio stopped in front of the closed elevator doors.  
  
Jarod turned his head slightly and glared at her out of one eye. The other was swollen shut.  
  
"I was the price for your freedom, Miss Parker. Why are you still here?" The pretender slurred at her around a mouthful of blood.  
  
"They won't let me go." She whispered morosely.  
  
Jarod started to laugh a low sinister sound. "Not even the Whore of Babylon herself can escape the hell we've built for ourselves here." In a disgusting gesture of contempt, Jarod spat a small puddle of blood onto the floor at Parker's feet.  
  
The elevator doors suddenly swished open and the sweepers dragged Jarod into the empty car. One of the guards politely held the door for Miss Parker and glanced at her expectantly.  
  
"I'll catch the next one." Parker said stonily.  
  
Jarod's malicious laughter echoed in the hall as the doors slid shut between them.  
  
Parker fled, running down the hallway to the nearest restroom where she locked herself in a stall. She lowered the lid on the commode and sat down weakly as she began to tremble uncontrollably. It was a long time before she could ease her shuddering.  
  
Parker finally made it to Sydney's office with the files she'd been carrying. Once her errand was complete, Parker left the Centre for the rest of the day. She went home, curled miserably in front of her dark fireplace, and spent the evening drinking several bottles of malt liquor.  
  
Parker had passed out around midnight. When her phone rang at three in the morning, she didn't hear it so the call went unanswered. As a result, she didn't learn about Jarod's escape until Sydney told her the next morning.  
  
As before, no one was sure how Jarod had gotten away. He had simply vanished from his room in the middle of the night.  
  
Days blended into weeks as Parker, Sydney and Broots were once again assigned to the pursuit of the missing pretender. Parker's life took on a strange desolation. Her days at the office were full of empty leads on Jarod. Her lonely nights were sleepless unless she drugged herself into unconsciousness with alcohol or sedatives.  
  
There was no sign of Jarod. No phone calls, no packages, no red notebooks to be found. As though he had dropped off the face of the earth, Jarod was gone.  
  
Another month dragged by. Autumn leaves fell and the air took on the chill of approaching winter.  
  
Parker left The Centre at the end of another disappointing week of fruitless searching. She pulled her coat around her more tightly as she hurried down the steps toward her car in the parking lot. The day had been as overcast and dreary as Parker's mood. Now, it was five o'clock and Parker mingled with the mass exodus of other employees as they headed home for the weekend. Men in dark suits and women in lab coats all scurried through the biting wind to their vehicles.  
  
Parker didn't pay much attention to any of them so she didn't notice the group of darkly dressed men that walked nearby. She reached her car and unlocked the door. In a smooth, almost casual, motion a tall lean man veered away from the edge of the group as they went by. In her negligence, Parker didn't see the man approaching.  
  
As Parker began to open the car door, an arm came from behind to grab her. Her scream of surprise was muffled by a cloth placed over her nose and mouth. Parker could smell the distinct odor of chloroform. Strong arms held Parker in a vice as she struggled. As the edges of her vision began to blur, the arms spun her around and Parker looked up into the face of a sweeper. His brown hair had been cut short and his eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, but he looked as cold and formidable as any other sweeper at The Centre. He held Parker in a deadly embrace with one hand while with the other he pressed the drug soaked cloth more tightly against her face.  
  
Just as her world went black Parker realized that the sweeper standing before her was Jarod.  
  
Parker woke up groggily some time later. She blinked as she surveyed her surroundings. She found herself in a small dreary room. The walls were made of wood. The cabin was little more than a shack and Parker shivered as a draft of chilly air found its way into the room. Her shoes and coat were gone as was her suit jacket. Parker was lying on a wooden bed with a cheap mattress. Her wrists were handcuffed together.  
  
Parker sat up and breathed deeply for a moment as the room spun around. The drug she'd been given hadn't completely worn off yet. Once the world stopped tilting, Parker stood carefully and padded barefoot across the cold floor to the door. With her hands bound, turning the knob was awkward but the door was locked. Along one wall was a rickety looking bureau. Parker opened each drawer as quietly as she could, trying to find something with which to unlock the cuffs.  
  
The sound of a key turning in the lock startled her and Parker dashed back to the cot to curl defensively in the corner.  
  
Jarod entered the room wordlessly, locked the door behind him and placed the key in his shirt pocket. He had changed out of the suit Parker had last seen him wearing. Dressed more like him self now, Jarod wore black jeans and a matching sweater. Propping his back against the wall, Jarod slid down to a crouch on the floor and watched Parker intently.  
  
For several minutes the two of them stared silently at one another. The tension finally became too much for Parker and she broke the silence as she asked, "What do you want, Jarod?"  
  
"I want to forget that I ever met you." He said flatly. "I want to exorcise you from my mind and from my dreams." Jarod sighed. "Can you tell me how to do that?"  
  
Parker stared at him wordlessly. She blinked hard as her eyes filled with repentant tears and her lip started to tremble.  
  
Jarod bolted upright and crossed the room in two long strides, anger emanated from him in waves.  
  
"No!" Jarod growled. He snatched Parker up by the arms and dragged her off the bed. Squeezing her arms tightly, Jarod shook her in front of him like a rag doll. "No more of your crocodile tears." He hissed in Parker's face.  
  
"You can't seduce me with your phony sobbing any more." Jarod said cruelly.  
  
Jarod shoved Parker away and she fell backward onto the shabby mattress. Parker shivered as Jarod's eyes went cold and his gaze raked along the length of her body.  
  
"I don't need to believe in you." Jarod said as he approached the bed menacingly. "I can take what I want."  
  
In a blur of motion, Jarod lunged at her and grabbed the chain between Parker's wrists. He yanked the chain violently to the head of the bed and hooked the links over the bedpost. Then Jarod wrapped a vice like hand around her ankle and hauled Parker down the mattress in the other direction so that her arms stretched uselessly above her head.  
  
Jarod kneeled on the bed between her legs and shoved Parker's skirt up her thighs. He straightened long enough to unzip his pants then Jarod bent over her. Parker's eyes squeezed shut as she heard the fabric of her panties tear and she began to realize what was happening.  
  
'Just like every other moron who has ever crawled between your legs.' Jarod had said to her that horrible day. This was going to be his retribution.  
  
Parker gasped when Jarod forced his way into her unprepared body. Tears sprang in her eyes at the pain. He was hurting her and he knew it.  
  
A sob clawed at Parker's heart as the magnitude of what she had done finally dawned on her. Only now did she understand that her betrayal of Jarod's trust had destroyed the precious relationship that they had shared. There had been a time when Jarod had protectively and tenderly watched over Miss Parker. But now her treachery had reduced them to predator and prey. And Jarod was the one doing the hunting.  
  
Jarod thrust against Parker again. His strong fingers gripped her tightly around her legs, biting into the tender flesh of her thighs. With a shifting of his weight, Jarod pulled Parker's hips several inches into the air allowing him to enter her even more deeply.  
  
As Jarod drove into her a third time, Parker could feel him pressing against the very core of her soul. Her body recognized Jarod's and began to react of its own accord. Her next gasp was a combination of astonishment and arousal.  
  
Much to Parker's embarrassment, her excitement grew as Jarod continued to delve into her flesh. The sensations that ran through her were titillating. The rasp of his denim jeans against her inner thigh, the pinching of metal at her wrists served only to further increase her stimulation.  
  
When Parker moaned with pleasure, Jarod grabbed a fistful of her hair and growled angrily at her.  
  
A moment later, Jarod shuddered his release into her womb. He'd barely finished before he jerked his body away from Parker's and staggered to the door. He fumbled frantically with the key in the lock in a blind effort to escape from the room.  
  
The door slammed behind him as Jarod left. Parker lay gasping and stunned on the bed, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. She was appalled, not only by Jarod's violation but also by the traitorous throbbing of her own body. Frustrated, unfulfilled tears slid down her face and disappeared into her hair.  
  
Parker eventually regained control of her emotions. She managed to unhook her chain from the bedpost but was unable to find anything in the room with which to open the handcuffs. Her wrists were red and tender from straining against the metal. After what seemed like hours, Parker curled up on the bed, wrapped her arms around her legs for warmth and fell into an exhausted slumber.  
  
Parker woke with a start to find Jarod towering silently over her. Her heartbeat quickened eagerly at the sight of him.  
  
Jarod held a pile of clothing toward her. "Your things." He explained woodenly.  
  
He dropped the coats and shoes on the foot of the bed and stared at her expectantly. After a moment, he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled a small silver key from within. He tossed the key onto the bed beside Parker.  
  
Parker warily took the key and used it to open the locks at her wrists.  
  
Hugging her coat to her chest, Parker gazed at Jarod sadly. "Is that it?" She asked timidly.  
  
"That's it." Jarod nodded.  
  
Parker stared at him agog. "I don't understand." She stammered.  
  
Jarod shrugged. "Not really what I had planned." He said cruelly. "But I don't see the point of raping you again if you are going to enjoy it."  
  
Parker began to cry again. "I'm sorry Jarod. I am really so sorry."  
  
"Save your tears Parker." Jarod hissed through clenched teeth. "Don't waste them on me anymore."  
  
Parker sighed and nodded miserably.  
  
Jarod's anger deflated suddenly and he gazed at Parker with a terrible look of woe. His chocolate brown eyes shimmered with pain.  
  
"I could have made you happy, Parker." Jarod swallowed.  
  
"It wouldn't have lasted." She whispered sadly. "The Centre would never have allowed it."  
  
Jarod turned his back toward her and walked slowly across the room. When he reached the door he stopped and spoke without turning back. "Tell Sydney that I appreciate everything he tried to do for me. Tell him that I will think of him often."  
  
Parker couldn't speak, so she merely nodded instead.  
  
Parker could not see Jarod's face, but she could hear the sadness in his voice. "Goodbye, Parker." He whispered.  
  
Without another word or a glance back, Jarod walked out of the room, leaving the door wide open. A minute later Parker heard another door open and close as Jarod walked out of her life for good. Parker laid her head in her arms and wept.  
  
---- -----  
  
Parker woke from the dream and found her pillow wet with tears.  
  
With a heavy sigh, Parker sat up and stared at her reflection in the vanity mirror.  
  
Parker was never sure how long she had lain in that cabin alone. But she had eventually left and found her way back home.  
  
Remarkably, no one had witnessed her abduction in the parking lot. Because Jarod had released her and she had returned home before the weekend had ended, no one had even noticed that she was gone. Parker never told anyone about her encounter with the pretender.  
  
Parker had realized almost immediately that her time in the cabin coincided perfectly with the most fertile point in her monthly cycle. She knew the chances were very good that she had conceived. Knowing what Raines and Lyle would do if they discovered she was carrying Jarod's child, Parker had set the stage for an elaborate plan.  
  
Parker had gone to the office Monday morning as usual, never mentioning her adventure at the cabin. She convinced Sydney and Lyle that she needed a vacation in order to freshen her outlook on the pursuit of Jarod. Within two days, she was on a plane to Europe.  
  
Parker spent the next three weeks traveling around the Mediterranean countryside. She met a young French college student named Jean-Pierre. Although her relationship with the young man had been a purely platonic one, Parker had made sure that she had several suggestive photos taken of her self with the student.  
  
By the time Parker returned to work, she knew that she was nearly a month pregnant. Parker went to great lengths to gush to Sydney and Broots about her imaginary affair with the Frenchman. When she pretended to discover her pregnancy another month later, it became common knowledge that Parker was carrying a French college student's lovechild.  
  
Even Sydney had believed that his namesake had been fathered in Europe, for Parker had protected her child's secret fervently. If The Centre had learned the truth, Parker knew that her own life would be forfeit and her daughter would be locked away for rest of her life. Her little girl became the focal point for Parker's entire existence. Nothing was more important that the child's safety.  
  
When the youngster had begun to read, at the tender age of 27 months, Parker could no longer deny the truth. Little Sydney looked so much like her father and her intelligence further highlighted her true paternity. But by then, The Centre had been bought out. Raines had retired and Lyle was off in Venezuela or something. The danger was gone.  
  
Parker was still staring into the mirror when Syd appeared quietly at the door and startled her from her reverie.  
  
"Are you okay?" he asked.  
  
Parker shrugged. "I was just thinking about Jarod. I wish I could find a way to get through to him. Convince him that I do care about him."  
  
Sydney entered the room and sat beside her on the bed. "You've always had a soft spot in your heart for Jarod, though you tried for years to deny it." He smiled and put one arm around her shoulders. "Jarod has always known that. But I think that in his anger and disappointment, he has allowed himself to forget."  
  
Parker sighed and laid her head on the older man's shoulder. "He seems even more alone now than he was before."  
  
Sydney nodded. "Jarod works hard to isolate himself now. It's a defense reaction. Pure self-preservation."  
  
"He's afraid of being hurt again." She whispered. "I want to help him. But I don't know how."  
  
Sydney squeezed her gently against him. "Neither do I." He said.  
  
"Momma?" a soft voice called from the doorway. "I'm hungry."  
  
Parker smiled at her daughter and held her arms open welcomingly. Little Sydney hopped into the room and onto her mother's lap, where Parker curled around her in a warm embrace.  
  
"Well, what do you want for dinner?" Parker asked pressing a delicate kiss on top of the girl's head.  
  
"Uncle Sydney said we could have Japanese." The little girl said excitedly. "He knows a place where you sit on the floor and eat with chopsticks and everything."  
  
The elder Sydney chuckled. "I've made reservations for six o'clock. We had better get going soon. That's why I was coming to wake you."  
  
Parker clapped her hands firmly. "Well let's get a move on then."  
  
Sydney was helping his godchild put on her shoes a few minutes later when a knock came at the front door. Parker slipped her arms into her jacket before answering. The smile she'd had on her face vanished when she saw Jarod standing in the hall.  
  
"Hello, Jarod." Parker said cautiously.  
  
"My parents want to meet your daughter." Jarod began gruffly. The preciseness of his words did not escape Parker's attention. "If you are amenable to the idea, I can arrange for transportation to the ranch in the morning."  
  
"Momma?" Parker glanced down at her daughter. The little girl was looking up at her questioningly. A glance at Jarod told Parker that he was glaring directly at her. His eyes avoided little Sydney altogether.  
  
Parker frowned as she considered Jarod's request. With a small smile, Parker caressed her daughter's cheek. The girl's father may have no interest in her, but she had other family here. Parker couldn't rob her child of the opportunity to meet her grandparents.  
  
"Okay." Parker agreed.  
  
Jarod nodded and grumbled at her in sharp clipped tones. "Fine. You'll all need to be packed and ready to go by nine A.M." Without any further comment, Jarod turned on his heel and left Parker standing in the open doorway.  
  
  
  
  
  
End part3 


	4. Apples and Pie dough

01/03/03  
  
The Other Side of Despair Part4  
  
  
  
"How is that, Grandma?" Sydney asked as she proudly pointed to her handiwork.  
  
Margaret leaned over the table to see. "A little thinner, sweetheart. We want a nice flaky pie crust."  
  
Parker smiled as she watched her daughter return to her chore. Sydney was kneeling on one of the kitchen chairs all her efforts concentrated on the rolling pin and pastry dough beneath her little hands.  
  
Parker caught an amused glance from Emily across the table and the two women chuckled at the sight Sydney made. The child had flour in her hair and on her clothes and face. The pie dough she was working on was far from circular and had torn in a few spots. But Sydney was having a ball.  
  
The past several days had been a wonderful experience, not only for the little girl but also for her mother and Uncle Sydney. Jarod's parents were warm, friendly people who had welcomed their granddaughter with love and enthusiasm. Parker had been worried that the Sullivans would resent the presence of two ex-Centre employees, especially the one who had been caretaker for their missing son for so long. But Parker's concerns had been groundless.  
  
Margaret and Charles had quickly put them all at ease and welcomed them into the family. It was very apparent that the Jarod Parker had once known had inherited his kindness and compassion from his parents. The older couple was good to her and they positively doted on her daughter.  
  
Major Charles had introduced little Sydney to the wonders of the ranch. The property spread across several hundred acres of grassland and forests where the Sullivans raised prize-winning horses. The Major quickly promised to find a pony just the right size for a little girl. In the meantime, her grandfather would saddle up his stallion each day and haul Sydney onto his lap for a ride. She would cling desperately to the saddle horn and beg her grandpa to go faster.  
  
There always seemed to be new things for the little girl to see and do. In Sydney's young mind though, the coolest thing in the world was spending time with her Uncle Jack. Parker would watch the two of them together and wonder if her daughter could realize that Jack was such a close substitute for her father. The young man was literally Jarod's clone after all.  
  
Jack was nearly halfway through his junior year at a nearby college. Technically he was majoring in business, but in reality he was perfecting his social skills with people his own age. Frat parties and football games were big parts of his life. Just yesterday, he had taken his young niece to a pep rally on campus. The two of them had come home filled with sugar and covered in confetti. Sydney and her Uncle Jack would giggle conspiratorially every time someone asked if they'd had fun.  
  
The huge sprawling ranch house was a place of laughter and acceptance. Charles and Margaret had found an unusual family. Not only had they reunited with their son Jarod and daughter Emily, but they had also found two orphans in Jack and Ethan. The two younger men were now both an integral part of the Sullivan family. The Major was 'Dad' and they called Margaret 'Mom'. The older pair lovingly referred to them as 'the boys'.  
  
An anxious Miss Parker and the gray-haired Sydney had merged into the extended family with ease.  
  
Margaret had insisted that they stay through the holiday. Ethan and Emily had shown up at the ranch the day before and the house began to take on a loving chaos familiar to large families. Tomorrow was Thanksgiving Day so today the women were gathered in the kitchen to bake pies.  
  
Parker and Emily patiently sat at the table and peeled an endless supply of apples while Margaret mixed pumpkin custard at the counter. Syd and the Major had disappeared into the den for a game of chess. Ethan had gone to get a little fresh air and exercise his favorite mare.  
  
The back door opened with a crash as Jack returned from school.  
  
"Look at my pie, Uncle Jack." Sydney exclaimed.  
  
Jack dropped his backpack on the floor and leaned over the table to study the child's work seriously. "It looks a little crooked, Squirt." He said honestly as he flipped her gently under the chin.  
  
The little girl shrugged. "It goes on the bottom, Uncle Jack." She said in exasperation. "No one will see that it's crooked."  
  
Jack laughed. "We won't see it, but the poor thing is so lop-sided I'm sure it will taste crooked."  
  
Sydney frowned. "Will my pie taste crooked, Grandma?"  
  
"Nonsense." Margaret laughed. "Jack, behave yourself."  
  
With a kiss on the top of Sydney's head, Jack reassured her. "Crooked or not, Squirt, I'm sure your pie will be delicious. I can't wait to try it."  
  
The little girl's smile beamed with delight.  
  
Emily gasped in false horror as her younger brother reached out and snatched a sliver of apple from the bowl in front of her. "Jonathan D. Sullivan, you are incorrigible."  
  
Jack grinned evilly and flashed a mischievous wink at Miss Parker. He nonchalantly plucked another apple from Emily's bowl.  
  
"Jack!" She squealed. "I've been peeling these damned things all afternoon. Stop it!"  
  
Another piece of fruit disappeared into Jack's mouth. Sydney began to giggle at his antics.  
  
Emily pointed at him menacingly. "If you try that again I swear I'm going to stab you with this paring knife."  
  
With a chuckle, Jack continued to torment his sister. "You've got to catch me first." He laughed as he picked up his pack and hauled it on to his shoulder. "Professor Alton gave us a ton of work to do." He said abruptly as he kissed his mother on the cheek. "The bastard."  
  
"That's not nice, Uncle Jack." Sydney scolded him.  
  
"Easy for you to say, Squirt. You've been ditching school all week." Jack shot back, tickling the child's ribs for good measure. "I'm going to get started on the assignment so that it doesn't ruin my entire weekend. Call me for dinner."  
  
As Jack headed out of the kitchen, his hand flashed past Emily's face and he grabbed a handful of apple slices from the bowl at her elbow.  
  
"Jack!" She yelled.  
  
He wagged his eyebrows in amusement and purred, "Catch me if you can." Jack dashed out of the room laughing as the apple Emily had in her hand flew at him.  
  
As the laughter in the room faded, Margaret noticed the far away look on Miss Parker's face.  
  
"What are you thinking, Miss Parker?" The older woman asked.  
  
Parker smiled sadly. "Jarod used to torment me like that." She said softly. "I would get so furious with him." Parker remembered.  
  
Sydney climbed down from her chair and moved to her mother's side. "Did Daddy do silly things a lot, Momma?" She asked curiously, leaning against Parker's thigh.  
  
"Not a lot, baby." Parker answered with a sigh. "Just often enough to infuriate me."  
  
"What kinds of things did my brother do to irritate you?" Emily asked with an inquisitive smile.  
  
Parker patted her daughter's head affectionately before returning her attention to the fruit in her hand. "Well," Parker said in an exasperated tone. "He insisted upon calling my house at three o'clock in the morning." Parker's eye's softened with the memories of her old friend. "And there were packages he would send in the mail."  
  
"Packages?" Sydney asked. "Like presents?"  
  
"Sometimes they were presents." Parker chuckled. "Sometimes they were not. He once mailed me a dead bird."  
  
"Gross." The little girl wrinkled her nose.  
  
"There was one box that he had rigged up with a small explosive. Blew up in a ball of smoke right in my office." Parker shook her head.  
  
"Sounds dangerous." Emily commented.  
  
"No." Parker said confidently. "But it startled me badly. Made my office smell like sulfur for a week."  
  
Margaret stood against the counter, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "I always think of Jarod as being so different from our Jack. It's difficult to imagine him being so," The woman paused as she struggled for the proper word. "Fun loving."  
  
Parker dropped her knife in to the bowl on top of the last of the apples. She stared in to space for several long moments before she replied. "Jarod had a real zest for life. Everything was a wonder to him and he had a unique way of sharing that wonder with those of us who knew him." Parker gazed forlornly at her hands, held tightly in her lap as she went on. "I never realized it at the time. I missed him terribly when those late night phone calls stopped coming."  
  
Margaret crossed the room, crouched in front of Parker and laid one hand over Parker's tenderly. "What happened, Miss Parker?" She asked. "What changed him?"  
  
"I'm afraid, I did." Parker said as a single tear rolled down her cheek. "I took his innocence for granted. I let The Centre beat the joy right out of him."  
  
"Don't be sad, Momma." Sydney whimpered, throwing her arms around her mother's waist.  
  
Parker sniffed briefly and then smiled encouragingly as she pulled Sydney into her lap. "I'm not sad, darling." She said. "I'm just sorry to have hurt your daddy the way I did." Parker squeezed her child tightly. "But I would do it again if given the choice. Because I got you in the bargain."  
  
"You always got the better end of every deal, didn't you?"  
  
The icy voice coming from the doorway surprised all three women, making them jump. Jarod stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. With one hand he held the edge of the swinging door, in the other he carried a briefcase. His eyes glittered frostily as he took in the domestic scene surrounding the table.  
  
"I've invited Sydney and her mother to stay for the weekend." Margaret said cheerfully.  
  
Jarod grunted.  
  
"We've been having a lovely time during their visit." The older woman added enthusiastically.  
  
"I can see that." Jarod replied, in an empty voice. He stepped into the room and briskly crossed the floor to give his mother a kiss on the cheek. "Hello, Mother." Jarod said.  
  
"Hello, dear." She answered.  
  
Jarod repeated the gesture of greeting with his sister.  
  
Sydney crawled back onto her chair and said, "Look at my pie, Daddy."  
  
Jarod frowned in displeasure at the little girl and finally dragged his eyes to the pastry lying flat on the table.  
  
"It's crooked." He said bluntly. Turning to his mother Jarod said brusquely, "I'll be in the study." A moment later he was gone.  
  
Parker's heart twisted as she recognized the dejected look on her daughter's face. Sydney sighed forlornly then straightened to lift her chin bravely. "So what if it's crooked?" She said sternly. "Uncle Jack will like it anyway."  
  
Parker cupped her little girl's chin in her palm. "I will like it. And Uncle Sydney will like it too."  
  
"And your Grandpa will like it." Margaret chimed in. "But that's not saying much." She added with a sigh. "I swear the Major will eat anything that isn't nailed down. The man actually likes calamari." She said with exaggerated annoyance.  
  
"What's that?" Sydney asked.  
  
Margaret leaned toward her granddaughter ominously and whispered in playful dismay, "Tentacles. Fried squid tentacles."  
  
Sydney's eyes grew wide with disbelief. She glanced furtively at Parker. The girl obvious thought her grandmother was teasing her.  
  
Parker nodded. "It's true. Fried squid tentacles." The look of disgust and dismay that ran across little Sydney's face was so comical that the three women couldn't help but burst into laughter.  
  
End Part4 


	5. Pretend

01/04/03  
  
The Other Side of Despair Part5  
  
  
  
The bedroom door opened quietly and Sydney tiptoed into the room. Her small sock covered feet moved soundlessly across the wooden floor.  
  
This was her daddy's bedroom. If he caught Sydney here he would surely be angry. But the child's curiosity had gotten the better of her. The grownups in the household were all napping after the huge holiday meal they had eaten a couple of hours ago. Sydney had overheard grandma say that had even her father had drifted off on the sofa in his study.  
  
Sydney should be sleeping too. Momma had tucked her in for an afternoon nap before retiring to her own bed for some rest herself. But Sydney hadn't really been tired. She hadn't eaten much turkey but had downed several pieces of pie smothered in whipped cream. The resulting sugar rush would keep her up for hours.  
  
After crawling out of bed in her room, Sydney had crept next door to her mother's room. For a while, Sydney had lain quietly on top of the coverlet with her mommy and had watched her sleeping. The child loved to watch her mother, especially when her mother didn't know she was being watched. Sydney was convinced that her mother was the most beautiful woman in the world, almost like an angel.  
  
While gazing curiously at her sleeping mother, Sydney had gotten an idea. She had tread softly down the hallway and slipped into this room to learn more about the intimidating man who was her father.  
  
Sydney looked around inquisitively. The room was an elegant décor of tan, burgundy and brown. The furniture all seemed larger than normal to the little girl. She hauled herself up on to the king-sized bed. Lying in the middle of the bed, she stared up at the ceiling and tried to imagine her father sleeping in that exact spot. Sydney rolled onto her tummy and buried her face in the pillows. She could smell the tangy, spicy scent of aftershave clinging to the quilt.  
  
After a few minutes on the bed, Sydney slid to the floor and moved to the dresser. As quietly as she could, the little girl slid the bottom drawer open. Rummaging among the blue jeans and sweat pants, Sydney searched for clues to her father's personality. Finding nothing but clothes, she sighed, closed the drawer and moved up to the next one. She repeated this action for as many drawers as she could reach but found nothing of interest.  
  
Beside the dresser stood an easy chair. The little girl crawled into the chair for a few moments. Kneeling on the cushion, Sydney leaned over the arm of the chair to look at the book sitting face down on the end table. "The collected works of Mark Twain" was imprinted in gold letters on the book's leather spine.  
  
With a shrug Sydney left the chair and padded across the room to the closet. The door squeaked slightly as it swung open, causing Sydney to freeze for several moments in anxiety. When it became apparent that no one had heard, the little girl glanced in the closet. Several pairs of shoes lined the floor. Suits, several cotton shirts and assorted jackets hung from hangars above her head.  
  
Sydney stepped into the closet. Closing her eyes, she twirled among the combined fabrics of silk, wool and leather. With a sudden thud, her foot collided sharply with something hard, bringing bright tears to the child's eyes.  
  
Sydney crouched down to rub at her stinging toes. Her brow furrowed as she looked up and saw the object that she had stumbled on. Tucked on the floor in a dark corner of the closet was a silver case.  
  
The little girl was puzzled. Too small to be a suitcase, and too large to be a briefcase, the casing looked like it was made of metal. Sydney had never seen anything like it before. Grabbing the handle, she found it to be heavy but not so much so that she couldn't lift it.  
  
She pulled the case out of the closet and sat on the floor to study it more closely. The hasps were made of button latches like the ones on mommy's suitcase. But when Sydney pressed the latch with her thumb, it wouldn't move. It was locked. She could see where a key could be used to open the case but Sydney couldn't find a key.  
  
Sydney climbed back onto the over stuffed chair. Standing on the tips of her toes, she strained to see the top of the dresser. No key there.  
  
Sydney heard the soft voice of her grandmother passing in the hallway. Staring wide-eyed at the door, she waited breathlessly for the sounds of movement to dwindle. When she felt it was safe again, Sydney scurried from the chair to kneel on the floor in front of the silver case.  
  
Sydney knew that she could not stay here much longer before she was discovered. But she didn't want to abandon her treasure. The fact that the silver box was locked was a sure sign that this was important. What could she do?  
  
Gnawing at her lower lip, the child pondered her situation. Suddenly coming to a risky decision, Sydney grabbed the handle on the case and stood up. The heavy metal bumped into her knees as she hauled the case to the door. She would take her prize to her room and hide it in her fort.  
  
This morning, while preparations for the holiday dinner were being made, Uncle Jack had kept Sydney occupied in her room by building her a fort. Made up of blankets draped over three chairs, the small tent was held together with books and clothespins. The resulting structure had been just big enough for Jack to sit inside it cross-legged. Sydney had curled up in his lap with a flashlight while her uncle had told her silly stories.  
  
Sydney would take the case to her room and hide it under the blankets in her fort.  
  
Setting the case against the wall, Sydney carefully opened the door and peaked in to the hall. Once she was sure that the corridor was deserted, she lifted the case with both hands and hurried toward her own room as quickly and quietly as she could.  
  
  
  
Late the next afternoon, Jarod stood in the kitchen rummaging through the leftovers in the refrigerator. Some of yesterday's turkey remained, wrapped in foil. But it was a slice of apple pie that Jarod was after.  
  
Today had been a quiet day. The weather outside had turned cold and rainy making it a good day for lying around lazily. Little Sydney had spent last evening and all day today playing in her room. Parker had spent her time that afternoon with Ethan. As a result, Jarod had been able to emerge from his study without worrying about bumping into either of them.  
  
Admittedly, hiding out in his office all weekend was a cowardly way to deal with this situation. But being in the same room with Parker and her little girl was exhausting. The warmth that radiated from the pair pulled at Jarod like a moth drawn to a flame. For the first time in years, Jarod had felt the same isolation as he had suffered when he'd first escaped from The Centre.  
  
The emotional walls Jarod had so carefully built over the past six years were beginning to crumble. The battle to keep them up was taking its toll on him.  
  
Jarod had watched the two of them all during the holiday meal yesterday. Miss Parker glowed with affection for her daughter and the little girl was such a lovable little sprite. Jack teased the child unmercifully until Sydney was reduced to a fit of giggling hiccups. Parker had smiled more during that one hour than Jarod had seen in the nearly three decades he had known her.  
  
An unfamiliar feeling churned in Jarod's stomach every time Parker grinned at his brother Jack. It wasn't until little Sydney had proudly given the first piece of her pie to her Uncle Jack that Jarod began to recognize the sick sensation for what it was. Jealousy had squeezed Jarod's appetite into dust.  
  
Jarod pulled a pie tin from one of the refrigerator shelves and sat alone at the table with a fork. Eating straight from the pie plate, he munched thoughtfully at the desert. The abrupt realization that Jack, genetically speaking, was just as much Sydney's father as he was, made Jarod feel ill. His fork clattered into the dish with abandonment.  
  
Jarod stared morosely at his plate. Perhaps he should encourage Jack to take on that role in little Sydney's life. Jarod would provide financial support while Jack could give the girl the paternal figure she obviously desired. Jack was better suited to it anyway, Jarod thought. The younger man didn't have the bitter dark blots on his soul that Jarod endured.  
  
With a heavy sigh Jarod closed his eyes to further contemplate this new option. An image formed in his mind. The image consisted of Parker, her little girl and Jack holding hands happily. It made for an adorable picture. Jarod opened his eyes and sighed again. It could work, he supposed. If he never came home for holidays to see the three of them together, Jarod might be able to get accustomed to the idea.  
  
Jarod stood to put away the rest of the pie. Leaning his forehead sadly against the freezer door he mumbled to himself. "Who are you trying to kid, Wonder-boy?"  
  
If Jarod arranged things for Jack to become an integral part of Parker's little family, how long would it be before Jack found his way in to her bed? She would always see in Jack the pretender she had grown up with. And Jack was no idiot. Parker was a remarkable woman. It never occurred to Jarod that Parker wasn't the dream girl of every man's fantasies. It never dawned on him that Jack might not be interested.  
  
From upstairs, Jarod suddenly heard Parker's voice as she called loudly to her daughter.  
  
"Sydney?" Parker called. "Honey? Open the door."  
  
Jarod tilted his head and frowned as a banging sound echoed through the house.  
  
"Sydney!" Parker called again.  
  
Jarod stood and moved to the kitchen door where he could better hear the drama unfolding upstairs.  
  
"Sweetheart?" Margaret called gently. "Talk to Grandma. Are you okay?"  
  
Parker pounded heavily on the bedroom door. Her voice took on a frightened tone as she called to her daughter again. "Sydney! Please answer me!"  
  
"Charles!" The panic that edged his mother's voice as she screamed for her husband spurred Jarod into action. He dashed down the hall and took the stairs two at a time. Jarod reached his mother's side at the same time his father did.  
  
"What's wrong?" the Major asked.  
  
"Sydney has locked the door and she won't answer us." Margaret cried.  
  
Jarod pounded forcefully on the wooden panel and growled menacingly. "Open this door young lady, right now!"  
  
"Jarod." Parker pleaded. "Don't frighten her."  
  
Jarod grabbed the doorknob and shook it hard. By now, the hallway was filled with the rest of the family as Ethan, Jack and Syd hurried to join the group.  
  
Margaret grabbed her husband's arm. "Get some tools." She urged him.  
  
"Don't bother." Jarod growled waving his parents back. With a massive kick, Jarod's boot made contact with the door just to one side of the knob. Wood splintered and the lock gave way abruptly. The door flew open, banged against the wall with a crash and rebounded.  
  
A damp chill filled the room from an open window. Sydney was nowhere to be seen and the bed was empty. Against the far wall a tent of blankets stood draped over some chairs. Taped to the front entrance of the tent was a sign, printed in large red letters.  
  
"Keep Out! Top Secret!" the sign read.  
  
In long angry strides, Jarod crossed the room to tower over the tent. He grabbed the blanket at the top of the structure and, in a shower of clothespins and clattering books, Jarod yanked the blanket away.  
  
The sight that greeted him from the confines of the little tent made Jarod's heart plummet into an icy ball of lead in his stomach.  
  
Jarod's silver DSA case sat open in the center of the small space between the chairs. Small shiny disks littered the ground around the case. A legal pad and wads of yellow paper were mingled chaotically among the disks.  
  
Little Sydney was gone.  
  
Margaret began to moan, a low sound in her throat. "Oh please, no. Not again." She whispered harshly. "Not again."  
  
"Sydney!" Parker dropped to her knees to look under the bed. She then bolted to her feet and ran to the closet to search inside. "Where is she?" Parker cried.  
  
Chaos began to erupt around Jarod as his mother began to panic. Parker hurried to the elder Sydney's side and clutched frantically at his arm. "Sydney? Where is my baby?"  
  
Jarod stared wordlessly at the jumble at his feet. Something inside him began to tremble. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply in an effort to control him self. But the shaking increased until Jarod's body was shuddering uncontrollably.  
  
His mother's voice echoed in the room. "Not again. Not again. Oh please, not again."  
  
"I'm calling the police." Major Charles declared.  
  
"Wait." Jarod croaked through dry lips. Moving slowly as if he was in a dream, Jarod fell to his knees in front of the ruined fort. He crawled on his hands and knees in to the center of the small area and sat in front of the DSA player.  
  
Swallowing hard, Jarod closed his eyes and began to do something that he had not tried for more than five years. He pretended to be someone else. He pretended to be his little girl.  
  
Parker recognized the motions Jarod was making. He was breathing deeply and performing relaxation techniques that preceded his emersion in a pretend.  
  
Jarod opened his eyes and studied his surroundings curiously. A small piece of wire on the floor caught his attention. Jarod picked up the mangled paper clip and rolled it around in the palm of his hand.  
  
"She used this to pick the lock on the DSA case." Jarod said.  
  
Bending low, Jarod gazed intently at the DSA player. Running the pad of one finger along the edge of the case, Jarod found white dust sprinkled about. Touching his finger to his tongue, he discovered that the white dust was powdered sugar. On one of the chairs nearby sat a plate of gingerbread cookies. The sugar had come from the top of the cookies.  
  
Jarod frowned for a moment in confusion. He picked up the legal pad. Written in neat block lettering, much like his own handwriting, was along list of nonsense words. Each word consisted of different combinations of the same five letters. A hasty inspection proved that the crumbled sheets contained similar lists of jumbled letters. The lists went on for pages and pages.  
  
"My god." Jarod gasped. "She is a smart kid."  
  
The look he shot at Parker was full of desperate shock. "She scraped the powdered sugar off of her cookies and sprinkled in over the key board to find my fingerprints. The only keys ever used are the five the make up the password. Therefore the letters on the keyboard with fingerprints on them must be the ones used in the password."  
  
Jarod flipped through the pages on the legal pad, each jumbled word on every list had a neat line drawn through it.  
  
"She must have spent all night methodically trying different combinations of letters." Jarod said with awe. "She locked the door so no one would find out what she was doing."  
  
"Jarod." Major Charles said gently. "There are thousands of possible combinations for five letters."  
  
Jarod nodded. "It looks like she got lucky. She only needed to try about fifteen hundred of them before she stumbled onto the right one."  
  
Jarod glared angrily at the aging psychiatrist standing beside the bed. "Did you teach her this, Sydney? Did you teach her how to break into a system this way?" He growled.  
  
"Jarod, I swear to you." Sydney said gently. "I had no idea she could do anything like this."  
  
Jarod scooped up a handful of disks from the floor, studying them thoughtfully. From the looks of this mess, the little girl had gone through a great number of the disks. However, there were still a lot of them neatly filed in their proper holders. Something had stopped her from watching anymore.  
  
With a strange feeling of dread, Jarod flipped the DSA viewer on and started to play the disk that had been left in the machine.  
  
The high-pitched screaming of an adolescent boy screeched from the speakers. Jarod flinched and the rest of his small audience all jumped.  
  
"NO!" the boy wailed miserably from the DSA. "Sydney, please! IT HURTS!"  
  
Jarod jerked the disk out of the slot and threw it across the room. Bolting to his feet, he pulled back one foot and kicked violently at the view screen. In a satisfying shower of plexiglas and sparks, the monitor skittered across the floor and burst against the wall.  
  
Sighing heavily, Jarod sat on one of the chairs with a thud. Burying his head in his hands, he shook his head sadly. "She wasn't taken." Jarod sighed. "She's running."  
  
Parker glanced out the open window. Cold rain pelted through the opening and onto the floor. A shiver of fear ran down her spine as Parker realized it was getting dark.  
  
"Are you sure?" Parker asked.  
  
Jarod stood swiftly. "Of course I'm sure." He grumbled. "She's found out that her beloved Uncle Sydney was the head villain in a modern day torture chamber. And she knows that Mommy used to work there too." Jarod dragged his hand through his hair. "She is more than a little upset."  
  
Parker looked anxiously out the window again. She swallowed. "How long has she been gone?"  
  
"Long enough for the carpet to get soaked and the DSA player to automatically shut down." He answered. "From the temperature in the room I'd guess that the window has been open for at least thirty minutes."  
  
Jarod and Parker exchanged a wordless look.  
  
"I'll find her." Jarod said firmly as he walked toward the window.  
  
Folding his tall frame awkwardly through the opening, Jarod slipped outside onto the porch roof. The flat surface was slick with icy rain as Jarod carefully made his way to the edge. When he looked down, he found that he was only about twelve feet from the ground. An easy jump for a man his size, the height must have been awesome for a little girl barely three feet tall.  
  
Jarod swung to the ground then turned and examined the trellis along the side of the porch. In the summer, the wooden framework was a riot of color, filled with rose blooms. But now, the blossoms were gone and the leaves were all dead, making a convenient ladder to the ground. A bright yellow piece of fabric caught among the thorns stood out like a beacon.  
  
Jarod's parents and Miss Parker burst out of the kitchen and onto the porch to stand beside him in the rain.  
  
"Was she wearing yellow?" Jarod asked.  
  
Parker nodded. "A yellow t-shirt."  
  
Jack came from the house carrying a large water resistant jacket. He handed it to Jarod. "We'll get a search party together." He said.  
  
"No." Jarod said as pulled on the coat. "In this rain, following her trail will hard enough without a crowd tromping all over her tracks. Give me an hour to track her. Then send out search parties."  
  
Jack nodded then handed Jarod a second jacket. Jarod stared in surprise at the little pink coat in his hand.  
  
Parker gasped. "She's out here with no jacket." She cried softly.  
  
Jarod swallowed. "And I think she's barefoot." He added morosely. He stuffed the little coat against his body and zipped his jacket closed over it. "I will find her." Jarod vowed.  
  
Parker nodded helplessly. Jarod scanned the ground carefully for a minute and then sprinted off across the grass.  
  
To Jarod's well-trained eye, the point where the little girl had entered the woods was easily detectable. Once under the canopy of trees, the rain was less annoying but the path was gloomier and getting darker with each passing moment. Sydney's trail was easy to follow. She'd been running blindly and Jarod found more than one place where she had fallen. He realized that she was probably crying.  
  
"Don't think." Jarod growled to himself. "Just find her." But he couldn't help himself. Years of training had taught Jarod how to see things by looking at the clues left behind. In his mind, Jarod could see Sydney running. He could see her slipping and sliding down the wet embankment, tears running down her muddy face as she sobbed.  
  
He burst through the tree line and Jarod found himself staring at a rocky riverbed. The water was frothy with rapids.  
  
"Oh, God." He whispered. "Please stay away from the water, please, please, please."  
  
Jarod searched the surrounding rock covered area for signs of the girl's passing. To his left he found a muddy print on a stone. Sydney wasn't barefoot but was in only her socks. The sock print, nearly washed away now by the rain, told Jarod that the girl had slipped and fallen here. He found blood on flat rock nearby. Not much. She must have scraped her palms when she fell.  
  
Jarod found another sliding mud print several yards down stream. He also found a discarded pair of cotton socks. Sydney had stopped to remove the slippery things from her feet. Jarod looked around him frantically as the rain began to get worse. Without the socks to leave prints, and with the rain hiding any new disturbances among the rocks, Sydney's trail was gone.  
  
In an effort to find some clue, Jarod began making small yet ever widening circles around the spot where he'd found the girl's socks. Breathing heavily, he ran his hands through his wet hair and looked around.  
  
"Sydney!" Jarod called.  
  
'Where would a cold and frightened little girl go?' he asked himself.  
  
Jarod clambered up the rocky incline toward the trees. Just before he reached the tree line, Jarod spotted a crevasse formed between two large stones. An evergreen tree had partially fallen over the stones to create a blanket of sorts over the boulders. Remembering the tent in the child's room, Jarod hurried over, pulled back the drooping branches and peered into the dark opening.  
  
Sitting in the dark but dry little fissure was Sydney. Curled into a tight ball with her eyes pressed against her knees she was bawling her little heart out in misery.  
  
Jarod's knees nearly gave out as his body sagged in relief. He leaned against the stone for support and allowed himself to simply revel the sight of the little girl. The knot in his stomach began to ease as he realized that he would not have to go back to Parker empty handed. With a sigh Jarod slipped in to the little cave and sat on the soft earth.  
  
'Face it, J-man.' Jarod thought to him self. 'You'd have never gone back without her.' Jarod knew that he would have crawled through Hell and back on his knees rather than face Parker if he had been unable to find the little girl.  
  
The space between the rocks seemed claustrophobically small to Jarod but it was a comfortable fit for a small child. The girl still wept noisily, unaware that she had company.  
  
Jarod spoke softly, yet his voice still startled her. "You've given your mother quite a scare." He said gently.  
  
Sydney's head popped up. Sniffling, she stared wide-eyed at her father. Her eyes were swollen and puffy from crying and tears had made dirty tracks down her face. She was wet and her hair clung damply to her head in tangled strands.  
  
"You frightened everyone very badly." Jarod told her.  
  
Hiccupping around her sobs, Sydney looked woefully at him. Her lower lip trembled as she spoke. "That place, The Centre, they hurt that boy." She said ignoring his comment.  
  
Jarod glanced at her warily. "Yes." He said truthfully.  
  
Sydney stared at Jarod intently. "Did his mommy send him there because he was bad?" She heaved.  
  
Jarod shook his head. "No."  
  
There had been a time in his life when he did believe that he must have done something to deserve what happened to him but the truth was that he'd been an innocent victim of greed and avarice.  
  
"Uncle Sydney was there." The little girl's voice dropped to nearly a whisper.  
  
"Yes." Jarod answered.  
  
"He hurt that boy." Sydney accused. She was terribly upset by what she saw as deception from her Uncle Sydney.  
  
"Sometimes." Jarod said. There was no point denying anything, Sydney had seen the proof.  
  
Lips wavering, she said, "You were that boy."  
  
With a sigh, Jarod nodded.  
  
Sydney began to sob again, speaking between little gasps of air. "Uncle Sydney put you in that dark place and he hurt you. You had no mommy to kiss the hurt away."  
  
Jarod stared at his daughter in wonder. She was crying for him. This little wisp of a girl was weeping over things that had happened to Jarod decades ago.  
  
"How do you make hurt go away with no mommy to kiss it?" Sydney asked in anguish.  
  
The girl's empathy for the little boy Jarod had once been was overwhelming. He inhaled sharply as his vision began to blur with unshed tears.  
  
"You don't." Jarod laughed sadly. "The hurt never really goes away. It stays with you all stored up like a squirrel stores nuts for winter."  
  
"Oh, Daddy!" Sydney cried. She threw herself across the short space that separated them and wrapped tiny arms around his neck. "I'll kiss it for you." She sobbed as she pressed her cold lips against Jarod's cheek. Again and again Sydney kissed his cheeks, his neck and his forehead.  
  
Crying openly, Jarod held on tight while his small daughter rained him with love and kisses.  
  
It took a couple of minutes for Jarod's mind to register the iciness of Sydney's touch. With a small gasp he pulled the girl from around his neck and quickly wrapped her in the pink coat he'd brought with him.  
  
"I've got to get you home." Jarod declared.  
  
He unzipped his jacket and pulled Sydney into a warm embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck once again. Jarod maneuvered his way out of the small shelter and settled Sydney on one hip before zipping his jacket closed over the little girl.  
  
With Sydney cradled against his body, Jarod cautiously started to walk back the way he had come. Sydney laid her head on his shoulder and nuzzled against his neck.  
  
"Daddy?" The little girl sniffled.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"My mommy can help make the hurt go away." She said innocently. "She's real good at it."  
  
Jarod squeezed his precious bundle. "I don't think so, Kitten." He sighed. "Your mommy and I. Well, let's just say that when it comes to dishing out hurt, she and I always do a hell of a job on each other."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I don't know." Jarod answered honestly. He thought about it for a few minutes then said, "Maybe we know each other too well. Maybe if someone knows who you really are deep inside, you can't help but hurt each other."  
  
"Does Momma know who you really are?" Sydney asked.  
  
"She used to." Jarod said. He stopped and placed small kiss on his daughter's forehead. "When we made you, she did."  
  
As Jarod resumed his trek through the woods, he looked up and saw men on horseback in the distance. He called to them and was quickly joined by his father and Jack. Jarod swung up onto the extra horse they had brought with them. While they rode back to the ranch, the Major used a radio to call off the search and inform everyone that little Sydney was safe.  
  
When they reined up in front of the house, Sydney was fast asleep against her father's chest. There was a great commotion upon their return. The child's grandmother wept with relief and her mother checked her over repeatedly for any serious injury.  
  
But the exhausted little girl slept on.  
  
  
  
End Part 5 


	6. Conversations in the Dark

01/06/03  
  
The Other Side of Despair Part6  
  
  
  
It was nearly dawn.  
  
Parker sat in the darkened study. Firelight from the dwindling embers in the hearth provided the only illumination. Perched on the edge of the coffee table, Parker gazed affectionately at the pair sleeping on the couch. Jarod's tall frame was longer than the sofa was wide so that his legs, crossed at the ankles, hung over one edge. His head was cushioned on a small pillow at the opposite end.  
  
Sydney was sprawled across her father's body with her head resting on Jarod's chest. The only physical sign of her earlier ordeal was the red puffiness around her closed eyes. Parker was worried though by the fact that the little girl was sucking on her thumb. That, combined with the nightmare a couple of hours ago, was enough to cause Parker some major concern.  
  
When the search party had returned with Sydney safely clutched in Jarod's arms, Parker had been prostrate with relief. She had hugged and kissed the little girl over and over and over. Once she had changed Sydney into dry clothes and was confident that the child was unharmed, Parker had been unable to leave her. As a result, Parker tucked Sydney into bed with her and slept with one arm wrapped protectively around her daughter's little form.  
  
It had been just after 3 A.M. when Sydney's screams had wakened the entire household.  
  
"MOMMY!" The child had screamed at the top of her lungs, though Parker was only a few steps away. "Mommy, don't leave me!"  
  
Parker had held the squirming, writhing child in her arms but Sydney had screamed again.  
  
"Mommy! It's dark!"  
  
Jarod was the first to burst through Parker's bedroom door. Some part of her mind registered the fact that he must have been awake and not far away. He stood frozen for a moment in the doorway, as though he had lost his way and found himself in a strange place.  
  
"Mommy! Don't leave me!" Sydney wailed.  
  
Parker rocked back and forth. "Mommy is right here, sweetheart. I'm right here." She soothed.  
  
Parker could hear, rather than see, those gathered behind Jarod in the hallway.  
  
"What's wrong?" Emily's voice lilted in to the room.  
  
Parker answered in her own soft soothing voice in an attempt to calm her daughter. "It's a bad dream. Just a bad dream."  
  
Sydney's contortions stopped abruptly and the little girl had started to sob. "Mommy! Please, don't leave me in the dark. I don't wanna be special anymore."  
  
Jarod flinched. A look of fierce determination came over his face. In two long strides he had entered the room and plucked the little girl from her mother's arms. "You are safe, Kitten." Jarod hushed into her ear.  
  
Turning in his arms, Sydney weaved her hands around Jarod's neck and clung to him desperately.  
  
"You don't ever have to go there." He told her as Jarod caressed the soft hair cascading down the child's back.  
  
Sydney squeezed her father even more tightly. Her sobs softened into whimpers.  
  
Without another word, Jarod turned and walked out of the room with Sydney cradled in his arms. Plowing his way through the small crowd of family that had gathered, Jarod disappeared down the hallway.  
  
Parker had stared after him, stunned. She could hear the sounds of her daughter's distress fading as Jarod carried her further away. Parker's arms felt empty, abandoned of her maternal right to comfort her own little girl.  
  
Her anger flashed as Parker ran after them.  
  
By the time Parker found the two in his study, Jarod was holding Sydney one handed, propped on his hip while he rummaged through a large mahogany cabinet. Sydney was sniffling but her curiosity had finally overcome the tears as she peered at the reams of paper and ledgers at Jarod's fingertips.  
  
Parker hesitated in the doorway. Jarod was looking for something specific, she could tell. He seemed so full of purpose. Sydney was hanging on his hip as though she had done it a thousand times. They moved naturally together, like dancers. For the first time, Parker really understood that Sydney belonged to Jarod just as much as she belonged to her.  
  
Pulling a large long roll of paper off of a shelf, Jarod handed the tube to Sydney. "Hold this." He ordered gently before returning his attention to the cabinet.  
  
The little girl was still studying the roll inquisitively when Jarod pulled another similar batch of papers from the cabinet. He moved to his desk and sat in the large leather chair, gracefully swinging Sydney into his lap.  
  
Jarod unrolled the papers in his hand to reveal architectural blueprints, several pages thick. He flipped casually through several of the top sheets before moving one specific page to the top. As Jarod smoothed the curling edges down with one hand, Parker could see the drawing from her vantage point at the door and she recognized it.  
  
"This was my room." Jarod said softly, pointing to a spot on the blueprint. "I slept there every night for the better part of thirty years."  
  
Sydney bent curiously over the blueprints.  
  
"Over here was the sim lab." Jarod indicated another room on the drawing.  
  
The little girl glanced at him questioningly.  
  
"The sim lab was where I had all my lessons." Jarod explained. With his hand, Jarod gestured toward the lower half of the page. "All this was underground. We called them sub-levels. No windows."  
  
"That's why it was dark." Sydney added.  
  
Jarod pushed the papers away from him slightly, leaving room on the desk for the other set of blueprints. He helped Sydney to unroll the tube she had clutched to her chest.  
  
"This is what it looks like now." Jarod said. "Those levels are all gone. Filled in with dirt and concrete." He allowed Sydney to study the plans for a few minutes in silence.  
  
"There is only SL-1 left now." Jarod finally said. "And we call it the basement. Nothing but machinery and dusty boxes down there."  
  
Jarod showed the little girl where the dirt and rock had been excavated in order to build a children's oncology wing at the facility. The beautiful glass and steel addition had been built into the side of the huge hill and the earth that had been removed had been used to fill in the unwanted lower levels of the old Centre.  
  
"It's gone, Sydney." Jarod reassured her. "All gone. You don't ever have to go there."  
  
"I still don't want to be special anymore." The little girl whined.  
  
Jarod smiled sadly and pulled her against his chest in a comforting embrace. "Sorry, Kitten. I'm afraid that I can't change that."  
  
Sydney sighed forlornly. Laying her head against Jarod's shoulder, she put her thumb into her mouth.  
  
Jarod sat back in the chair and rocked gently, tenderly caressing the back of Sydney's head. Only then had he noticed Parker watching from the door. He hesitated for a moment with a frown on his face. Then Jarod leaned forward and turned off the lamp on his desk, throwing the room into darkness.  
  
As Parker's eyes adjusted to the light, she could see Jarod moving in the room. With the flare of a match, a small glow illuminated Jarod's face. Sydney was tucked quietly against the curve of his neck. She looked up at her father innocently, still sucking on her thumb. Jarod put the small flame into the fireplace where it caught and spread in the prepared tinder.  
  
As the fire had begun to snap merrily, Jarod moved to the couch. He curled Sydney snugly on his lap with her back to his chest so she could watch the flames crackle.  
  
"Pretty. Isn't it?" Jarod whispered.  
  
Sydney nodded silently.  
  
"Don't ever be afraid of the dark, Kitten." He said solemnly. "Without it, you will never notice the light." Jarod had spoken quietly, but he gazed straight at Parker when he talked.  
  
Parker had known that he was trying to say something, but was unsure of his meaning. She watched the two of them for a long time from the doorway. The pair made a beautiful image sitting serenely together on the couch and Parker didn't want to intrude on this moment between Jarod and his daughter.  
  
Long after the little girl drifted off, Jarod had stretched out and fallen asleep. Only then had Parker felt as though she could enter the room.  
  
For nearly an hour now, Parker had been sitting less than a foot away watching the two of them. In sleep, they looked even more alike. Dark hair tumbled across foreheads and long beautiful lashes curled against high cheeks. However, Sydney had inherited her mother's nose as well as the basic shape of her face, giving the girl a less chiseled look than her father.  
  
Parker loved this child with a depth that she had never imagined possible.  
  
With a sigh, Parker decided it was time to put little Sydney back to bed before the rest of the family began to gather noisily in the kitchen for breakfast. She reached over to gently lift the little girl. Jarod's voice startled her so badly that she cringed.  
  
"Leave her." He growled softly.  
  
"I was just going to put her back in bed." Parker whispered.  
  
Jarod watched Parker silently through unreadable eyes for several minutes.  
  
"What would you say," Jarod asked finally. "If I asked you to go home? Go home Parker, and leave her with me."  
  
Parker chewed for a moment on her lower lip. "For how long?" she asked.  
  
Jarod said nothing. He only stared meaningfully at Parker until his meaning began to dawn on her.  
  
Parker shook her head slowly in disbelief. "No, Jarod. I won't let you take her away from me."  
  
His intent gaze never wavered.  
  
Parker swallowed. "If you take me to court, I'll fight you." She told him.  
  
"You won't win." Jarod vowed.  
  
Feeling as though all the air had been sucked out of the room, Parker gasped. "I'll fight you." She repeated. Parker stared at Jarod in abject horror. She couldn't believe what he was saying.  
  
Jarod sighed abruptly. In one smooth movement, he sat up, stood and transferred the sleeping Sydney into Parker's lap. He moved across the room to gaze blindly out the darkened window.  
  
"I'm not going to take her from you." Jarod said flatly. "You and I both know that a child needs its mother. We know it better than anyone, don't we?"  
  
Relief flooded Parker's soul and she began to breathe regularly again.  
  
Jarod placed his forehead against the cool pane of glass and whispered. "Why did you have to come here?" He sighed. "I was fine. I was really doing fine."  
  
Jarod whirled around and glared at Parker in frustration. "I had finally convinced myself that this was what I wanted. This was who I wanted to be." He said.  
  
He leaned against the windowsill and laughed bitterly. "You once asked me, how long I could pretend to be someone else before I got lost in that person. Eighteen months. It took eighteen months to erase who I was and become the erudite businessman I was trying to be.  
  
I just woke up one morning and realized that it didn't hurt anymore. It didn't hurt because I just didn't care."  
  
Jarod sighed and looked forlornly at Parker. "After a point, there seemed to be things I needed to do because I was a wealthy single man. People expect me to behave in a certain way. I give them what they want to see."  
  
"Why?" Parker asked quietly.  
  
Jarod shrugged. "Everybody wants something from me. It seems easier to give it to them right off rather than to dance around the issue. I fought it for too long." He sighed. "Got tired of fighting I guess."  
  
"Not everyone is after something, Jarod." Parker scolded him gently.  
  
"Yes. They are." Jarod reiterated. "No one wants to know me because I am me. They want what I can give them, or do for them. That's the way it is. That's the way it has always been."  
  
"That's not true." Parker denied.  
  
"What a pretty liar you are." Jarod sighed. "When have you ever come looking for me without a reason behind it, Parker? Even when we were children, you never came to see me unless you wanted something."  
  
"I was no more than a pet to you." Jarod continued sadly. "Something to play with when you were lonely as a child. As you grew up you ignored me. It wasn't until I escaped and became an annoyance that you even bothered to acknowledge my existence again."  
  
Parker opened her mouth then closed it again as she realized that she had no way to disprove his impressions.  
  
"Finally," Jarod went on. "You lured me back to my cage with a treat. Albeit, your body is a very sweet treat."  
  
Jarod face took on a far away look. "During my last stay inside The Centre, those long painful days were spent hating you, Parker. I must have planned a dozen different scenarios to exact my revenge. But those nights," He closed his eyes and sighed like a connoisseur tasting a fine wine. "Those cold dark nights I would dream about you. I'd dream about the way you felt beneath me the way you moved and that sound you made."  
  
Jarod looked at her with an intensity that made heat rise in Parker's cheeks.  
  
"When I escaped, I wanted to move on with my life. But I knew I would never be able to do that until I had settled the score with you." Jarod explained. "I wanted to hurt you, frighten you, make you feel trapped. You had used your body as a weapon against me. I figured I would use it as a weapon against you in return. I never intended to foist a bastard on you, Parker."  
  
Parker glanced quickly at her sleepy daughter. "Don't call her that." Parker hissed angrily. "Don't ever act like she was unwanted." Angry tears sprung to Parker's eyes. "She saved me, Jarod." Parker whispered passionately.  
  
Parker hugged the little girl gently so as not to wake her.  
  
"I was at my worst point." Parker said softly. "I was tumbling down the path toward the Parker legacy and I couldn't seem to stop. I was caught up in the fate that my father had chosen for me." She inhaled deeply and went on. "Then I realized that I was carrying your baby. Yours and mine."  
  
Parker paused before continuing ardently. "Do you have any idea how terrified I was? My god, Jarod, there was a second Mirage Project growing inside me. Can you imagine what Raines would have done if he'd found out?"  
  
Sydney whimpered in her sleep as if she could sense her mother's distress. Parker soothed the child with soft caresses. "My life became obsessed with protecting her."  
  
"You love her." Jarod whispered solemnly.  
  
Parker's head snapped up to glare at him. "Of course I do."  
  
Jarod stared at her silently for a long moment. "Why did you have to come here?" he repeated, his voice little more than a whisper. "You make it so much harder to forget."  
  
"What is it you want to forget, Jarod?" Parker asked sadly. "Me? Do you want to forget you ever knew me?"  
  
Jarod frowned and with a frustrated motion of his arms he turned to look out the window once more. "I want to forget that night!" he said angrily. "I felt incredible, invincible." Jarod's voice grew very quiet. "I felt loved. And it was all a lie."  
  
His eyes filled with shimmering unshed tears as he hissed in dismay. "When we were at the cabin, I thought you would be angry when I forced myself on you. You were supposed to yell and scream and tell me that you hated me. But you didn't." Jarod shook his head in confusion. "You didn't. Instead you started to move the way you did and you made that sound again."  
  
Jarod shrugged. "I had to get out of there. I had to get away before I caved in and let myself believe in you again."  
  
Parker looked at Jarod and said quietly. "It wasn't all lies, Jarod. I've always cared about you, but The Centre made it too dangerous for us."  
  
Jarod glared out the window silently.  
  
"The Centre is gone now. We could try starting over." Parker whispered.  
  
Jarod laughed sadly and Parker could hear the desperation in his voice. "Do you have any idea how badly I want to believe you? Do you?" Parker could see him trembling. "I would sell my soul to have you in my arms again."  
  
Parker smiled. But the smile did not last long.  
  
"How long would it last? " Jarod's voice suddenly dropped into a deep menacing growl. "I know you've come back to give your child a father. You love her and will do anything for her, including letting me back into your life." He sighed desolately and Parker could see the moisture pooling in his deep brown eyes. "But children grow up, Parker. What happens to me when Sydney is all grown up and she doesn't need me anymore? Will you discard me again?"  
  
Tears spilled down Parker's cheeks and she stared at Jarod in shock. "No." she gasped. "I never discarded you and I never will. You were the best friend I ever had, Jarod."  
  
Jarod crossed the room and stood beside Parker, gazing miserably into her face. With one hand he gently cupped her face, wiping away a tear with his thumb.  
  
He shrugged and said, "I don't know how to believe you." Jarod dropped his hand from her cheek abruptly and stuffed his fists into the front pockets of his jeans. Turning toward the window again he looked at the sky as it began to brighten with the dawn. "When are you leaving?" He asked gruffly.  
  
"Tomorrow morning." Parker replied softly.  
  
Jarod nodded. "My parents will want to visit with Sydney again. She is their only grandchild after all."  
  
"That's fine. Sydney loves it here." Parker said.  
  
"I'd appreciate knowing in advance when you are going to be at the ranch." Jarod said flatly.  
  
"Why?" Parker asked, her lip trembling. "So you can make sure that you're not here?"  
  
"Yes." He answered honestly. "The Centre is gone. I won't let the Parkers continue to torture me."  
  
Parker looked down at her little girl, still sleeping on her lap. "What about your daughter? What will you tell her?"  
  
Jarod stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched tight. "She's not mine." Jarod said. "Tell her that Jack is her father."  
  
Parker gasped. "It's not true."  
  
When Jarod turned and looked at her, his eyes were cold and flat. "Prove it." Jarod said blandly. "Every paternity test in the world will say that he is."  
  
Jarod then walked over to a set of walnut doors along the other wall. Pulling open one of the panels revealed a refrigerator and a well stocked bar. He grabbed an unopened bottle without bothering to inspect the label.  
  
"Now if you'll excuse me. I am very tired." Jarod said gruffly. "I will be indisposed for the next twenty four hours or so. Have a nice flight back to Delaware."  
  
Long after he had left the room, Parker was still gaping after him in wounded astonishment.  
  
-----  
  
Jarod nearly knocked his mother over as he stormed through the kitchen.  
  
Margaret was just beginning to prepare coffee when she looked up and barely avoided a collision with her oldest son. He was frowning and as he walked he was peeling the cap off of a bottle of vodka.  
  
"Jarod," Margaret said gently. "Where are you going?"  
  
"Out." He growled taking a swig from the container. "I'm going to find myself a hole to crawl into and then I'm going to get drunk."  
  
Margaret serenely planted herself in front of the kitchen door, effectively blocking Jarod's escape. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.  
  
"No." Jarod gritted out through clenched teeth.  
  
Cocking her head at him curiously, Jarod's mother said, "Why are you doing this to yourself, Jarod? This isn't like you."  
  
Jarod suddenly turned on her with a fury Margaret didn't hadn't realized he was capable of.  
  
"How the hell would you know?" He yelled abruptly. "Do you know what I am like? Do you even know who I am?"  
  
"You are my son." Margaret said softly.  
  
The bottle Jarod had in his hand suddenly flew across the room to shatter against the refrigerator door.  
  
"Your son." Jarod hissed. "The major's son. Ethan's and Emily's brother. Jack's twin. Sydney's father." Jarod whirled as his father entered the room but his tirade went on unabated. "CEO of Paradigm. Playboy. Negotiator. Hotel owner. Pilot. Which one?" He paced excitedly as he talked. "Pretender. Killer. Terrorist. Thief. Experiment. Toy. Lab-Rat. Which one, Mother? Which one am I?"  
  
Jarod glared at his father in anger and frustration. "Do you know, Dad? Do you know who I am?"  
  
Major Charles stood protectively beside his wife and spoke to Jarod in a calm soothing voice. "We are each made up of the experiences of our lives Jarod. Each of us has many facets to our personalities. I am father, husband, son and soldier sometimes all at once."  
  
Jarod stared at him in confusion. "How?"  
  
The Major shrugged. "We just do it. It is who we are."  
  
"But I don't know who I am." Jarod cried.  
  
"None of us can tell you that, Jarod." The older man said kindly. "It's something you must discover for yourself."  
  
Jarod stared morosely at the floor for several minutes, thinking. Finally, he looked up at his parents, with tears swimming in his dark brown eyes.  
  
"Forgive me." He whispered. Jarod then walked out the kitchen door without another word.  
  
Jarod didn't come home for dinner that night, nor did he return in time to say goodbye to Sydney, Miss Parker and her daughter when the three of them left the next morning.  
  
He was still gone five days later when his parents filed a missing persons report with the police.  
  
  
  
  
  
End Part 6 


	7. Pretender Sightings

01/12/03  
  
The Other Side of Despair Part7  
  
  
  
The police department had been as cooperative as possible. They had put Jarod's name and photo out on the statewide system but even if an officer spotted him, there was little the authorities could do. He hadn't done anything illegal.  
  
The Sullivan family did a little sleuthing of their own. Jarod had been spotted in town the afternoon he had left the ranch. Everyone there knew him. The Sullivans had a reputation in the tiny burg near their home. Jarod's philanthropic efforts had earned him his name in gold on a plaque at the library. The townsfolk had wanted to name the new elementary school after him but Jarod had insisted against the idea.  
  
Doris, waitress and owner at the only coffee shop in the little township, had sold him a cup of coffee and a donut on the day he had disappeared. She had scolded him for being out in November without so much as a sweater for warmth. Sheriff Bradford had seen him hitchhiking north, just outside of town late that same afternoon. The sheriff had assumed that Jarod was dealing with some kind of car trouble. He would have stopped to give Jarod a lift himself except that the sheriff had been answering a traffic accident call at the time.  
  
Jarod must have gotten a ride eventually, because by nightfall, he had vanished with out a trace.  
  
Ethan created a program that would scan the police databases across the country looking for hits on certain keywords. He hoped that there would eventually be some sign of Jarod. He didn't tell Margaret or Charles, but Ethan was also researching the physical statistics of all John Does showing up at morgues.  
  
Surprisingly enough, Ethan's computer found a hit on Jarod less than two weeks after he disappeared. He'd been arrested just the day before in Chicago, Illinois. Major Charles and Ethan were there the following morning.  
  
They walked into the precinct and flashed Jarod's picture to the sergeant sitting at the desk.  
  
"We understand that this man was brought in a couple of days ago by one of your officers." The Major said firmly.  
  
"Sorry." The woman said. "I've been off duty. I just came in this morning. Let me see if he is still being held here at the precinct. Name?" She asked as she turned toward her computer.  
  
Just then, a gray-haired bear of a man came lumbering through the room. He was very tall and wore his uniform like a man who had been born to serve. The cop had an old, wicked scar running down one side of his face. He would have looked intimidating if not for the big grin he wore.  
  
The sergeant at the desk stopped him. "Casey." She said. "You were on your beat this weekend weren't you?"  
  
"Yup." The huge man grunted.  
  
"Have you seen this man?" The major asked, showing Jarod's photo again. "He was arrested here a couple of days ago."  
  
Big burly hands, took the picture. Officer Casey was nodding after barely a glance. "Oh, Jarod. Sure, I saw him. Brought him in myself." He handed the photo back to Major Charles. "It was damn cold that night and I found him sleeping on a bench over by the plaza. I picked him up for vagrancy."  
  
"May we see him?" the major asked.  
  
"He's gone." The officer said. "Can't hold anyone long for vagrancy. We gave him a hot meal and a warm place to sleep. We sent him down to the shelter on Clark Street the next morning."  
  
"Can you tell me how to get to this shelter?" The major asked, undaunted.  
  
"Sure," Casey said motioning toward the female sergeant. As the woman rummaged through her desk, Casey said, "Strange duck, that Jarod. I mean the guy didn't have a damn thing in his pockets. He wasn't even wearing a coat. But he talked like we'd been friends for years."  
  
The woman handed Major Charles a photocopy of a street map, the location of the shelter on Clark Street had been circled with a blue pen.  
  
"Thank you for your help, officers." The major said as he turned to leave.  
  
"When you get there, ask for Rudy." Casey called after them. "Tell him I sent you."  
  
At the Clark Street shelter, Rudy was an easy-going, soft-spoken black man with a limp. He too had seen Jarod.  
  
"I'm real sorry, sir." Rudy drawled. "But I'm afraid that Jarod left this morning, right after breakfast. A shame too, that boy played a real fine game of chess. I'll miss him."  
  
Ethan asked. "Did he seem upset, or angry to you?"  
  
"Nah." Rudy scoffed. "Jarod was real polite, very helpful. He didn't have that homeless air about him." The major frowned in confusion. "When most people see a vagrant on the street, they either feel sorry for them or they feel afraid of them. That homeless air about 'cha, I call it." Rudy explained. "Jarod didn't have it."  
  
"Do you have any idea where he may have gone?" The major asked.  
  
"I told him to pick a coat from the donation bin." Rudy said. "He took one that was nice and warm but not very fashionable, if you know what I mean. Jarod said that he'd need to be warmer as he was headed north. I can't get any more precise than that."  
  
Major Charles shook hands with the other man and thanked him. He could see that Ethan was disappointed at missing Jarod. But the Major had spent too many years being this close to finding his son. There had been many times when Major Charles would hear of Jarod's whereabouts only days after he had left an area. The good news was that Jarod was alive and seemed to be doing okay.  
  
The Major and Ethan went back to the ranch to wait for the next tip on Jarod.  
  
The next lead on Jarod came from the pretender himself. It was nearly midnight on December 22nd when the phone rang at Sydney's house. The aging psychiatrist had fallen asleep in his favorite chair, a leather bound book drooped in his lap. The jangling phone startled Sydney into wakefulness.  
  
"Hello," Sydney said groggily.  
  
For a long moment, there was only silence.  
  
"Hello?" Sydney repeated in his thick accent.  
  
"Are you going with them to the ranch, Sydney?" Jarod's voice murmured from the phone.  
  
"Jarod!" Sydney cried. "Are you all right? We've been worried about you."  
  
"Are you going with them?" the pretender repeated.  
  
"Yes." His mentor answered. "I always spend the holidays with Parker and my goddaughter. We are flying out to your parent's place in the morning."  
  
"Tell them all not to worry about me." Jarod said.  
  
"Come home and tell them yourself, Jarod." Sydney replied gently.  
  
"Not yet." Jarod said gruffly.  
  
"Jarod, where are you?" Sydney asked. "Let me come and get you."  
  
"No, Sydney." Jarod's voice took on a sad, forlorn tone. "I'm lost. I've lost the person I was, the person I had hoped to be. I need to find my own way home."  
  
Sydney nodded in understanding. "When will you be back?"  
  
"I don't know." Jarod answered. "Just tell them not to worry. I'll keep in touch."  
  
Sydney heard a click followed by the dial tone as Jarod ended the phone call much the same way he had back in the days of The Centre.  
  
Christmas day had been spent at the ranch in a strange state of expectation. Everyone hoped that Jarod would walk through the door at some point during the day. As the sky began to grow dark without an appearance by the missing pretender, hopes shifted to at least hearing from him. But the day slipped by with no word.  
  
In mid-January Ethan received a package addressed to him at the ranch. The printed labels and postmark indicated that the parcel had been shipped from an attorney's office in Boston, Massachusetts. The box contained several documents, sighed by Jarod, giving Ethan the power to make executive decisions at Paradigm. Most issues at the corporation could be handled by vice-presidents and other executives. But there were some things that had been put aside until Jarod returned from his "holiday".  
  
With Ethan now legally acting in his stead, Jarod had essentially removed himself from the hierarchy at Paradigm.  
  
Weeks went by. Major Charles and his wife continued to search for their missing son. Miss Parker even called in a few favors and had Broots helping with the hunt as well. But Jarod left no trail to follow. He never withdrew funds from any of his sizeable bank accounts. There was no trace of a Jarod Sullivan matching his description anywhere. It became apparent that Jarod was using alias names again. Jarod's mother received the first red notebook late in February.  
  
Delivered to Margaret in a Federal Express overnight package, the little book looked just like the thousands of other red notebooks Jarod had made over the years. But Margaret had never seen any of those booklets. They had been a part of his life at The Centre. They had been a part of Jarod's life that this mother had never known.  
  
It was in a phone conversation with Parker that Margaret learned of the red book's significance.  
  
The articles in the notebook indicated that Jarod had recently been in Maine. The first headline read, "Fisherman's family struggles through hard times." Evidently, there was a fisherman named Ted Raime living on the coast of Maine. He and his family had been barely scraping by during this difficult time of the year. When Raime had broken his leg in a rigging accident, the thin financial line he'd been treading started to give way.  
  
The following pages in the notebook contained sketches of a quaint seaside town, dusted with snow. There were drawings of several different types of fish and coordinates were notated along the edges of the page, presumably indicating where the fish could be found.  
  
The final piece of information in the book had been another article about Raime. He and his wife stood smiling in front of their fishing boat. The headline read, "Local Fisherman plots school movement." With an uncanny accuracy, the fisherman could now predict where to lower his nets in order to bring in the best catch. Raime was making more money on fewer trips out to sea. Even hobbling on a broken leg, he was beginning to make a profit.  
  
Circled in red on the black and white photograph, was a fisherman in the background. He was standing on the deck of the Raime's boat, bent over a series of nets. He was dressed in fisherman's garb, oversized boots and a heavy slicker, so the viewer couldn't see his face. But the red circle was connected to an arrow that pointed to one word. Written in neat block letters it read "ME."  
  
Ethan had been busy at Paradigm that week so only Margaret and the Major went to Maine to talk with the Raime family about their son.  
  
"Didn't think he could do the job at first." Ted Raime told them. Jarod's parents sat at the kitchen table with Ted and his wife Wendy in their simple home near the coast. "He didn't have the hands for it. His calluses weren't in the right places to be a fisherman."  
  
"I didn't think Jarod had ever tossed a net in his life." Wendy said with a smile as she sipped at a cup of coffee.  
  
"But I couldn't afford not to hire him." Ted added. "I needed cheap help and all he wanted was room and board."  
  
"How long did Jarod stay with you?" The Major asked.  
  
"Three weeks. Just long enough to fix up that motorcycle he bought from Marcus Green's son." Ted answered. "I wish he had stayed longer. Hauling fish is hard, dirty work but Jarod did a good job."  
  
"He said that all a man needed was to work hard, eat well and get a good night's sleep." The fisherman's wife said fondly. "Jarod loved my cooking."  
  
"Do you have any idea where he was headed when he left?" Margaret asked the woman desperately.  
  
"He said that he was going to see an old friend but he didn't say who or where." Wendy said.  
  
"Thank you both for your time." The Major said as he and Margaret prepared to leave.  
  
"Thank you." Ted said. "Your son did a lot for me and mine. When you see him again, you tell him I said so."  
  
On the flight home, Charles and Margaret started making a list of all Jarod's friends. Once they got back to the ranch, they called Parker and Syd and asked them for more names. By the time they had finished, there was an extensive list of people to track down and call in search of Jarod.  
  
It took two weeks for Margaret and Emily to work through the list. They asked everyone that they contacted if they had seen Jarod. No one had. Each person was thanked and then given a message to forward to Jarod if they saw him in the future.  
  
Who ever Jarod had gone to see, he or she was not on the list of friends that Jarod's family knew.  
  
It was a warm spring day early in April when Emily answered the door at the ranch to find a scraggly looking character standing on the porch.  
  
"Hey there, Doll." The man said.  
  
"May I help you?" Emily asked defensively. She was wary of this stranger. He had oily brown hair and two or three days worth of beard on his chin. In the yard behind him, Emily could see a large bright blue motorcycle. Painted on the gas tank was a strange symbol and the words "Skint Rabbit".  
  
"Yea," the man said shifting nervously. "Is this the Sullivan ranch? I'm looking for a guy called Major Charles."  
  
"He's my father." Emily said. "What do you want?"  
  
"My name is Huey. I sold Jarod my bike. He told me to give this to the Major," The man held up a white envelope. "And I'd get my money."  
  
"Dad!" Emily yelled into the house.  
  
The Major appeared beside her within moments.  
  
"This is Huey." Emily told her father. "He says that Jarod sent him."  
  
Major Charles frowned. "You know my son?" he asked.  
  
"Yea, man." Huey answered with a smile. "We go way back. I've known J, for what, like eight years or somethin'. We met at the Vista House during my first term."  
  
"Vista House?" the Major pried.  
  
"Rehab." Huey said raking a hand through his tangled hair. "Took me three tries to get it to stick but I've been clean for four years now."  
  
"You met Jarod in a drug rehabilitation center?" the older man asked in disbelief.  
  
"Yep." Huey said with a grin. "But I'm not sure that Jarod was actually there for rehab. He busted this doctor who was framing one of his patients. Got her all stoned so's she would lose custody of her kid."  
  
"Jarod wasn't an addict was he?" Emily interrupted.  
  
Huey laughed. "J was an addict all right. He knows way too much about the hurtin' to not have been an addict once. But I don't think he was strung out when I met him is what I mean."  
  
Major Charles frowned with concern as he took the envelope Huey offered him. The Major opened the seal and found a letter inside, neatly printed in Jarod's handwriting.  
  
"Dad," the letter said. "This is my friend Huey. He has sold me his Harley. I promised him fifty grand for it. I know that the price is a little steep but he put a lot of work into that bike and Huey needs the money. He'll need a bus ticket back to Scottsdale, AZ as well. Thanks."  
  
The note was signed simply. "J"  
  
"Let's go inside shall we?" the Major said after reading the letter. "Tell me, Huey. How long did Jarod visit with you?"  
  
Huey looked around in amazement, as the group walked into the house. "Oh. A week or so I guess. We tooled around on our bikes. Listened to some righteous tunes. We talked about stuff."  
  
"What stuff?" Charles asked inquisitively.  
  
Huey shrugged. "About the reaper mostly." At the major's confused look, Huey explained further. "The addiction to smack, man. Jarod wondered why we beat ourselves up with the stuff. Why do we torture our souls by using even after it stops offering any enjoyment?"  
  
"What did you tell him?" The major asked.  
  
Huey shrugged again. "I think sometimes we get so disappointed in ourselves, so damned miserable in our own skins that we feel maybe we deserve the pain, you know what I mean?"  
  
"Do you know where Jarod is now?" Emily interrupted.  
  
Huey smiled. "He told me you'd ask." He chuckled. "He wanted me to tell you not to worry about him."  
  
"He's been gone for a long time." Emily whispered.  
  
"He's doing okay." Huey reassured her. "He's clean and sober and he seems fit enough."  
  
The Major sighed. "Come on into the study, Huey and I'll write you a check."  
  
The strange man stayed for the night and the major put him on a bus back to Arizona the next morning.  
  
Jarod became pretty consistent about making some kind of contact with his family on a semi-regular basis. In May, he left a message for his daughter on Parker's answering machine.  
  
Parker and little Sydney had just returned from the girl's first dance recital. Parker and Syd had proudly sat in the audience while the youngster pirouetted on stage with a dozen other children. Syd had patiently stood with the crowd of fathers and recorded the entire program on a camcorder so that the little girl could send it to her grandparents.  
  
When they returned home, afterward, Parker juggled a bag of groceries with one hand as she talked to her daughter while trying to unlock her front door with the other.  
  
"Momma," Sydney asked. "Can I wear my costume to school tomorrow?"  
  
Parker smiled indulgently at her daughter. The dancers had each dressed in different colors of the rainbow. Sydney's outfit was a deep emerald green silk leotard with green gauze wings. The little girl absolutely adored the costume.  
  
"I don't think it would hold up to a full day at school, dear." Parker said.  
  
Sydney shrugged dejectedly as the two entered the house. Parker dropped her keys on the end table and headed toward the kitchen to put a few things in the refrigerator. As she passed the answering machine, Parker hit the play button in response to the flashing message light.  
  
"Hello, Kitten." Jarod's voice rose from the recording, startling Parker so badly, she nearly dropped her groceries.  
  
"You dance wonderfully." Jarod said. "You sure look pretty in green. You should wear it more often. Do me a favor and tell your grandmother that I called."  
  
The message ended with a click.  
  
Sydney hopped up and down in excitement. "Daddy was there! He saw me dancing!" The girl clapped her hands with joy. "Did you hear, Momma? He said I looked pretty. Did you hear?"  
  
Parker patted her daughter's head affectionately. "Yes, baby. I heard him."  
  
Sydney rewound the tape to listen to Jarod's message again while Parker went into the kitchen. While Parker put items on their proper shelves, she wracked her brain trying to remember if she may have seen Jarod at the recital. He had obviously been there. Why hadn't Parker seen him?  
  
Granted, there were a lot of other parents in the building and Parker hadn't really been looking for anything unusual. Jarod could have been standing at the back of the theatre the entire time and Parker would never have seen him.  
  
The idea that Jarod was lurking around town gave Parker a weird conflicted feeling. She was glad to know that he was nearby, but knowing that Jarod could be outside right now watching the house made Parker uneasy.  
  
Parker went from room to room turning on every light in house. If Jarod was watching, she wanted him to know that she knew he was there.  
  
In a rented car parked at the corner, Jarod smiled at the warm glowing light coming from Parker's house. He slid his cell phone back into his pocket, crossed his arms and settled back to watch the shadows that crossed the windows of the house. Jarod sat in the parked car for nearly an hour before he started the engine and drove off into the night.  
  
On the morning of her birthday in July, little Sydney woke up to find a beautifully wrapped birthday present sitting on the desk in her bedroom. Grinning with excitement, the girl bounced across the room and plucked the card from the top of the package. Neat block letters had been printed in the card with multi-colored magic markers.  
  
The brief note read, "Happy Birthday Kitten."  
  
The child's squeal of delight brought her mother to the room. By the time Parker opened the door, Sydney was tearing away the silver wrapping paper and lifting her gift from the box. It was a doll. Made of plush soft fabrics, the huggable doll had huge brown painted eyes. It had a deep green colored dress and fairy wings made of silk.  
  
"Isn't she wonderful, Momma?" Sydney had gasped.  
  
Parker nodded. As Sydney handed the doll to her, Parker sank in surprise into the soft, well-worn rocking chair near her daughter's bed. Parker caressed the silken wings and fingered the soft brown yarn of the doll's hair. When she silently handed the tiny fairy back to her daughter, Parker couldn't help but smile at the radiant look on the child's face.  
  
Sydney was hugging the doll close when Parker suddenly realized, the cushions on the rocking chair in which she sat, were warm. Someone had been sitting here not long ago. Parker turned in her seat to stare meaningfully at the chair.  
  
The chair itself was more than six years old. It had been a gift from Syd while Parker was pregnant. Many a night had been spent rocking her daughter to sleep in this rocker. A soft afghan was folded across the back of the chair. The blanket was normally used to wrap Parker and her daughter together in a warm cocoon while they read stories together on cold nights. Knowing what she would find before she searched for it, Parker took the quilt in one hand and lifted it to her face. She inhaled a tantalizingly spicy-sweet scent that she instantly recognized.  
  
Jarod had been here. Until a short time ago, he had been sitting in this chair, probably watching Sydney sleep. Parker guessed that it was more than likely he had been there for most of the night.  
  
Parker stood and walked to the window. Pulling back the curtain, she gazed into the early summer morning. She saw no one. But she knew that he was there. Jarod had come inside her house last night. But rather than feeling irritated or uneasy about her intruder, Parker felt an odd sense of anticipation.  
  
Little by little, step by step, Jarod was coming back. The pretender who had left gifts and small clues of his presence to annoy Miss Parker, was on his way back.  
  
Parker smiled. "You'll have to call your grandmother later and tell her about your doll." She said as she led Sydney to the kitchen for breakfast.  
  
"This is going to be a good birthday, Momma."  
  
Of the many presents Sydney received that day, none was quite as special as the fairy doll dressed in green. The stuffed toy, christened as Belinda by her owner, was never far from young Sydney's side. The girl would take the doll everywhere her mother would allow. As dainty as the little fairy may have looked, she was surprisingly resilient and she was machine washable.  
  
August turned hot and dry. By the end of the month, forest fires were burning across the state less than one hundred miles north of the ranch. Margaret, Charles and Jack were watching newscasts about the fires one night. They had friends further north whose home was along the projected burn path.  
  
"I wish Eric and Carol would take us up on the offer to stay here until the danger passes." Margaret fretted.  
  
The Major clasped her hand in his. "If the authorities order them to evacuate, I'm sure that they will come." He reassured her.  
  
"Mom!" Jack exclaimed suddenly, pointing at the television. "Well, I'll be damned."  
  
A news reporter was speaking seriously into a microphone, discussing estimated damage and potential hazards with one of the men in charge of the fire fighting efforts. Behind them, there was a temporary structure where tired soot covered men and women were resting, eating or drinking from Styrofoam cups. Gray smoke drifted across the scene in curling tendrils.  
  
Sitting on a bench beside a table full of cups and jugs of water, was Jarod. Dressed like all the other firemen, he was covered in ashy dust and black soot streaked his sweaty face. He looked bone tired as he shoveled food into his mouth from a paper plate.  
  
The reporter had moved from the man in charge and was now interviewing other personnel as they walked by the camera. Jarod had finished his meal and was pouring himself another glass of water when the reporter startled him.  
  
"And what is your name, sir?" The reporter asked.  
  
Jarod blinked at the camera in surprise. "Jarod." He mumbled.  
  
"Where are you from Mr. Jarod?"  
  
"Uh, Delaware." Jarod responded cautiously.  
  
"Wow. You've come a very long way to help out with this effort." The reporter said. "What brought you across the country to volunteer for us?"  
  
Jarod frowned. "My folks live near here."  
  
The reporter nodded. "So you're here protecting the old homestead so to speak."  
  
"Something like that." Jarod replied. "I have to get back to work." With that, Jarod tossed back the last of the fluid in his cup, grabbed up his gear and walked out of the camera's view.  
  
The reporter and his cameraman moved on to interview another fire fighter.  
  
Jack and his parents sat watching the television screen in stunned silence.  
  
Finally, Margaret said, "We could be there in a couple of hours. We could bring him home."  
  
The major patted her arm gently. "That whole area is off limits. The authorities wouldn't let us in there."  
  
Margaret looked at her husband with tears swimming in her eyes. "He's so close. Why won't he come home?"  
  
Jack stood and kissed his mother on the cheek. "He'll come home, Mom. When he is ready, Jarod will come home."  
  
"Its just so frustrating to know that he is so close." Margaret whispered.  
  
A month later, Ethan experienced similar aggravation about his brother.  
  
Ethan had been in meetings all day. An important deal had just fallen through because of the whim of some spoiled debutante. So Ethan's mood was not good. His driver had been called away so Ethan now found himself standing on the city sidewalk, briefcase in one hand, and cell phone in the other while he tried to hail a cab.  
  
Ethan's ire was reaching irregular heights when a yellow taxi miraculously appeared at the curb beside him.  
  
Ethan ducked into the cab and barked an address at the driver. The cabbie was tall and had long brown hair that curled out from under the baseball cab he wore. Ethan paid little attention to the man as the cabbie made his way through the city traffic.  
  
Dialing his office on his cell phone, Ethan contacted his assistant and sighed heavily. He talked animatedly with the other man about the horrendous meeting.  
  
"I know, I know!" Ethan grimaced. He had a team of employees who had busted their butts working on this deal. And now weeks of effort were in jeopardy because some stupid socialite had gotten a bad vibe from her numerologist.  
  
"Get Mr. Richardson on the phone." Ethan growled. "I want to talk to him the minute I get in. Maybe he can talk some sense into this granddaughter of his."  
  
After listening to his assistant's response, Ethan cried. "I will not! I don't care what her horoscope told her, I refuse to get personally involved with that ditsy woman!"  
  
"I know." Ethan said with a sigh. "I'm sorry." He added more calmly. "I shouldn't take my anger out on you, Jeff. That woman just seems to bring out the worst in me."  
  
After a pause, Ethan frowned. "That is not funny, Jeff. Listen, see what you can do about getting hold of Richardson, I'm almost there. We'll talk in a few minutes."  
  
With that, Ethan ended the phone call and tossed his cell phone into his briefcase in irritation. As the cab pulled to a stop in front of the Paradigm building, Ethan reached into his jacket and pulled some bills from his pocket.  
  
Tossing the money into the front seat Ethan said gruffly, "Keep the change."  
  
Stepping out of the car and onto the sidewalk, Ethan heard the cabdriver speak for the first time.  
  
"Nice tip, bro." The deep soft voice purred. "Now I've got one for you."  
  
Ethan stared open mouthed at the cabbie.  
  
Jarod pushed the brim of the baseball cap up, revealing his face. "Don't work so hard. It's only money." Jarod grinned. "And it sounds like your ditsy friend is just what the doctor ordered."  
  
With a suggestive wink, Jarod put the taxi in gear and drove away, leaving his little brother staring after him in shock.  
  
  
  
End Part 7 


	8. Salvation from Despair

01/14/2003  
  
"Human life begins on the other side of despair." Jean- Paul Sartre  
  
  
  
  
  
The Other Side of Despair Part 8  
  
  
  
The leaves were turning into bright hues of autumn when Jarod called the ranch one night. It was dark out but it wasn't very late. Margaret and the major had gone in to town to volunteer their services at the Halloween dance being held at the high school. As a result, Jack was home alone studying for an exam when the phone rang.  
  
"Hello." Jack said as he plucked the phone from the cradle.  
  
"I've lost a dear friend." A miserable voice whispered.  
  
"Jarod?" Jack asked in surprise. "Is that you?"  
  
A strangled choking sob was the only response.  
  
"Jarod." Jack said softly. Closing his eyes, Jack could almost feel his brother's anguish through the telephone line. Jarod's grief was like a tangible thing. The pretender was obviously devastated by whatever had happened. Jack sat back and prepared for a long conversation. Jarod was reaching out, needing someone to talk to. Jack wasn't going to let his big brother down.  
  
Jarod sighed forlornly. "He was more than a friend." Jack could hear the tears in Jarod's voice. "He was a part of me."  
  
"What happened?" Jack asked gently.  
  
"He died suddenly. Cerebral hemorrhage." Jarod whispered.  
  
Jack tried to comfort his brother. "At least he wasn't in much pain, right?"  
  
For a long moment there was only silence. "He'd suffered enough during his life." Jarod rasped. "It was the least fate could do for him. Give him an easy death."  
  
"You knew him a long time." Jack stated knowingly.  
  
"Forever." Jarod whispered. Hiccupping gasps on the phone told Jack that his brother was now weeping openly. With a sniff Jarod snarled, "He deserved better, dammit. More than any of us, he deserved something better."  
  
"You all deserved more, Jarod." Jack said.  
  
Jack never thought of him self as one of The Centre's misfortunate progeny. Jack's own experiences at The Centre had ended while he was still a boy. Though he had been traumatized by his early treatment there, Jack had been rescued. He'd been brought into a life and a family where he was loved. Through that love and stability, Jack had unlearned much of Mr. Raines' teachings. Others had not been so lucky. Lifetimes of pain, manipulation and lies had created people like Jarod; survivors who'd never really learned to trust in anyone or anything but themselves.  
  
Jarod's voice murmured desolately across the miles. "Talk to me, Jack." Jarod sighed. "I don't care what you say. Just talk."  
  
For the next twenty minutes, Jack obliged. He talked about the costumes their parents had worn to the dance this evening. He regaled Jarod with tales about his course work and professors. Jack told his brother about Ethan's new girl friend, Heather Richardson. The girl was wealthy and intelligent but she was also more than a little eccentric, making for an entertaining topic of discussion.  
  
"You know how weird Ethan can get sometimes when his senses start acting up." Jack was saying. "When you get the two of them going, its like a schizophrenic convention. There may be only two people in that couple but I swear I'm talking to at least a half dozen different personalities sometimes."  
  
"Running Paradigm isn't too much for him is it?" Jarod asked with concern.  
  
Jack shook his head as though Jarod could see him. "Nah." Jack said. "Just the opposite. Ethan is cool and organized when he's working. It's only when he relaxes and starts to unwind that the light bulb in his head begins to give him trouble."  
  
"I'd better let you get back to those books," Jarod said finally.  
  
"It's okay," Jack said. "I know the material well enough. I think I'm done for the night."  
  
"I have to go anyway." Jarod sighed desolately. "I need to get moving if I want to make it to the services." He sniffed again, trying to control his sorrow. "Hey, Jack?"  
  
"Yea?" the younger man asked.  
  
"Thanks, little brother." Jarod said. "For being there when I needed it."  
  
Jack smiled. "We are always here for you, big brother."  
  
"I know." Jarod replied. "I'm just beginning to realize what that truly means."  
  
"A smart guy like you," Jack teased. "Should pick up on these things a little faster. Don't you think, bro?"  
  
The line clicked as Jarod ended the call with a sad sigh.  
  
In Delaware the next day it was bright and sunny. There was a chill in the autumn air, giving everything a crisp look and feel. Miss Parker stood in the cemetery between her daughter and her old friend Sydney. They were dressed in black just like the handful of other people in attendance.  
  
Broots was there. A tall black man who worked as an orderly at the institute stood solemnly to one side. Dr. Terrence, the psychiatrist from the institute, had also put in an appearance. Aside from the pastor conducting the service, the six of them were the only ones standing at the graveside.  
  
Parker stared at the coffin as the preacher droned on. Some part of her mind rebelled against the religious man's words. They were so meaningless. The pastor had never met Angelo. How could he perform a proper eulogy for someone he'd never known? How could this stranger ever understand what an incredible person her friend had been? Hell, it had taken Parker years to discover the intelligence, wit and compassion that Angelo was capable of exhibiting.  
  
The service ended quickly. Broots and the orderly slipped quietly away. Syd stopped to talk quietly with Dr. Terrence. The two shrinks had a professional acquaintance in that Angelo had been a patient to each of them at some time during his life. Parker just stood and stared at the flower- covered coffin while she held her little girl close for comfort.  
  
Parker had no idea how long she stood there, silent and dry-eyed, before Syd broke into her reverie. "Miss Parker?" He said softly. "Why don't I take little Sydney to the car and leave you alone for a few minutes?"  
  
"Thank you, Sydney." Parker whispered. "I just want to say good-bye."  
  
Sydney nodded as he led his godchild away. "Take your time."  
  
Alone by the grave, Parker gazed at the flowers adorning Angelo's casket. Something shiny caught her eye and she moved forward to inspect it further.  
  
Propped among the flowers on top of the coffin were a box of cracker jacks and a PEZ dispenser.  
  
Only then did the tears begin to come, silently running down her cheeks. Pulling a tissue out of her pocket, Parker buried her face and gave in to the grief.  
  
When her cell phone began to ring, she stopped to blow her nose before answering it.  
  
"The world is different somehow." Jarod said in a choked voice. "Some of the magic is gone."  
  
Parker nodded. "He took it with him."  
  
"God, this hurts." Jarod sobbed. "I feel like part of my soul has been torn away."  
  
"You loved him." Parker said softly. "Losing him hurts."  
  
Through hiccupping gasps Jarod asked. "Do you think he knew? Do you think he ever realized what he meant to us?"  
  
"He knew." Parker said confidently through her tears. "He always knew."  
  
For the next few moments there were only the soft sounds of their combined sorrow.  
  
Finally Jarod sighed morosely. "The tears keep coming." He whispered. "Every time I believe I'm done crying, I think of him again and the tears just keep coming." Jarod's voice took on a desperate tone. "I just. I need," he gasped. "I need."  
  
Parker sniffled. "Where are you, Jarod?" she demanded.  
  
He hesitated for a moment before Jarod said, "The maple tree to your left."  
  
Turning in the direction Jarod had indicated, Miss Parker searched the area with her eyes. At first, she saw no one. A heartbeat later, a dark shadow appeared from behind a tree about fifteen yards away. Jarod was dressed in black and leaning forlornly against the bright yellow maple.  
  
As Parker walked toward him, she ended the connection on her cell phone and put the device back into her pocket. As she approached him, Jarod did the same with his phone. He then put his head in his heads and slid down the tree trunk until he was sitting on the ground.  
  
When Parker kneeled down in front of him, Jarod looked up at her in abject misery. His dark brown eyes pooled again and again as tears slid down his damp cheeks. Parker didn't even try to stop the drops rolling off her own chin. For a brief moment they stared at each other and wept.  
  
"Parker!" Jarod sobbed. "I miss him so much."  
  
"So do I." Parker hushed. Reaching toward each other, Jarod placed his head in Parker's lap and wrapped his arms around her waist. Parker caressed his back as Jarod sobbed into the fabric of her skirt.  
  
"I was a horrible friend to him." Jarod rasped.  
  
"No." Parker denied. "You were the best friend he ever had. You were his family."  
  
Jarod shook his head desperately. "I should have gotten him out of that hospital. I should have taken him to the ranch and given him a real home."  
  
"He had so much trouble leaving The Centre. Even the institution was too much of a change for him at first. He was catatonic for months." Parker soothed Jarod through her own tears. "You couldn't take him across the country like that. He never would have been able to handle such a big adjustment."  
  
Jarod sniffed and sighed heavily. "He deserved so much more than fate ever permitted. He deserved a little happiness."  
  
Parker nodded. "I think he was happy." She whispered. "Those last few years in the institute. He had friends and therapy and he went outside everyday during recreation time. His paintings were getting really colorful and upbeat, you know?"  
  
Jarod sniffed again and nodded. "He showed them to me the last time I visited."  
  
"I think he found some happiness." Parker repeated. "I have to believe that he did."  
  
For several minutes, they sat curled in each other's arms.  
  
With a broken sigh Jarod finally said, "This is so hard." He shook his head. "I've never lost anyone like this before. I thought it was bad when Kyle died." Jarod glanced into Parker's eyes morosely. "I loved my brother, Parker. But it didn't hurt like this."  
  
Parker stroked his hair, pushing the dark tendrils away from his brow. "You barely knew Kyle." She said gently. "Angelo was a part of your life for decades."  
  
Jarod laid his head in Parker's lap again. "I'm going to miss him." Jarod said softly.  
  
Parker gave his back a comforting squeeze. "Angelo will always be with us, Jarod. We'll carry his voice inside us for the rest of our lives."  
  
With a final sigh, Parker scrubbed her mangled tissue against her red nose and patted Jarod on the back. "Let me up." She said kindly.  
  
Jarod sat up and released the hold he had on her. Parker stood and brushed grass and leaves from her wrinkled skirt. Straightening, she looked down at Jarod and held her hand out to him.  
  
"Come on." She said. "Its cold out here."  
  
Jarod looked up at her in hesitation. Parker stood there, hand outstretched in a welcoming gesture. Her strength and beauty pulled at Jarod's soul. In the dark little world they had grown up in, Jarod had always tried to be the protector, the caregiver for others. But gazing at this remarkable woman now, Jarod realized that Parker had always been the one looking after them. Even when she had been hunting him down, Parker had been the one keeping them all safe from harm.  
  
Jarod reached up and took Parker's waiting hand. She helped him stand and for a moment they stood looking at each other. Then, Parker smiled. Jarod tugged gently on her wrist and pulled her into a tender embrace.  
  
"Its time to come home, Jarod." Parker whispered against his shoulder.  
  
He nodded, unable to speak.  
  
They walked across the cemetery to the dark car parked at the curb. Parker opened her door and slid in behind the steering wheel. Jarod climbed into the passenger seat. Without a word to the stunned twosome in the back, Parker started the car and headed for home.  
  
Little Sydney opened her mouth as if to say something, but a quick look from her godfather stopped her. The drive back to the house was a quiet one spent in curious astonishment by the Sydneys and in comfortable acceptance by the two adults in the front seat.  
  
As the small group entered the house, Parker tossed her keys in the regular spot on the end table. Syd turned toward his godchild and said, "Sydney, why don't you go watch some television?"  
  
The little girl looked apprehensively from one adult to the other before deciding that discretion would be wise at this point. "Okay." She chirped as she ran off.  
  
"Change out of that dress first, young lady." Parker called after her. Daintily lifting first one foot, then the other, Parker pulled off her high- heeled shoes with a sigh. "I'm going to change too. Then I'll put dinner on the table." She sauntered down the hallway, leaving the two men standing by the front door.  
  
Jarod took off his overcoat and hung it on the coat rack where Parker had just placed hers. He then wandered into the next room, tugging at his tie to loosen the knot. Sydney followed him.  
  
Sydney watched his protégé as Jarod removed his suit coat and tossed it over the back of a chair as though he'd done it a hundred times before. When the little girl came tearing into the room a few moments later, she looked up at her father eagerly.  
  
"Do you want to watch Sponge Bob with me?" Little Sydney asked.  
  
Jarod shrugged. "Sure." He plopped down on the couch and pulled the child into his lap while she fiddled with the remote control.  
  
Syd crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe with a smile. He shook his head in wonder. Even after all these years, Jarod could still surprise the aging psychiatrist. The pretender seemed right at home on Parker's couch. It was as though the rift that had existed between Jarod and Miss Parker had never been.  
  
Parker came back wearing blue jeans and a soft purple sweater. She exchanged a small smile with the older man as she walked through the room toward the kitchen. She stopped behind Jarod and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Are you hungry?" Parker asked him.  
  
Jarod laid his head back to rest against the cushions on the couch. He shook his head wearily.  
  
"Well, try to eat something anyway." Parker said kindly. "Its just salad and some deli meats but its better than nothing."  
  
Several minutes later, the foursome sat at the kitchen table, munching solemnly at the simple meal. The mood in the room was somber. Each person contemplated the loss of the friend they had known.  
  
"Momma?" little Sydney asked cautiously. "Why did Angelo die?"  
  
"Something went wrong in his brain, Sydney. A blood vessel popped and he died." Parker answered.  
  
The little girl thought this over for a moment. "That's why he was at the hospital wasn't it? His brain was sick."  
  
Parker glanced across the table furtively as Jarod seemingly lost his meager appetite and pushed his plate away.  
  
"In a manner of speaking." Parker said to her daughter. "But Angelo was there because of a different kind of problem. It wasn't why he died."  
  
Sydney poked at her sandwich as she declared, "I liked Angelo. He was fun. I wish he didn't have to die."  
  
"Everybody dies, ma petite," the older Sydney said gently. "Sooner or later, everybody dies."  
  
The little girl blinked at the three adults as she processed that piece of information. "Not Momma." Sydney denied softly. "You won't die will you Momma?"  
  
Parker sighed and set her fork down beside her plate. This wasn't really a conversation she'd wanted to have with her daughter but it was bound to come up eventually. With the death of someone the child had known so well, mortality was a topic that could not be avoided.  
  
"Someday, baby." Parker said carefully.  
  
Little Sydney's lower lip started to tremble as she stared at her mother with dawning horror. "I don't want you to die, Momma!" she cried.  
  
Parker reached out and pulled her daughter from her seat. Curling the little girl in her arms Parker said, "I won't leave you for a long, long time, Sydney."  
  
"Promise?" The girl asked.  
  
"I promise" Parker vowed.  
  
Jarod sat perfectly still in his chair, watching Parker as she consoled the little girl. His eyes took on a glazed look as he looked at them. With a mumbled apology Jarod abruptly sprang from his seat and stomped out the back door into the yard.  
  
Parker, still huddled with her daughter in her lap, glanced at Sydney, concerned about Jarod's hasty departure.  
  
Syd stood and went to the window above the sink to peer outside.  
  
"He didn't leave," the gray-haired man said. "He's sitting on the porch steps."  
  
"Is he all right?" Parker asked fretfully.  
  
Syd shrugged. "It's hard to tell. I'll go talk to him." After fetching his jacket from the other room, Sydney stepped outside onto the wooden porch and sat wordlessly beside Jarod on the step.  
  
For several minutes the two men stared into the yard silently watching bright multi-colored leaves waft through the air and onto the ground.  
  
"I don't want to be alone again Sydney." Jarod finally whispered.  
  
"You don't have to be, Jarod." The psychiatrist said in a gently accented voice. "The wandering life you've been leading can end when ever you choose."  
  
"That's not what I mean." The pretender said forlornly. "It's one thing to be lonely, to miss the people you love. It's a completely different feeling to be completely alone in this world."  
  
Sydney nodded reassuringly as Jarod went on.  
  
"That year after my last escape from The Centre I felt completely alone." Jarod sighed. "I hadn't found my parents yet. I had cut off all contact with everyone here. I just couldn't bring myself to call you." Jarod picked up a curling leaf near his feet and shrugged in dejection. "I didn't think I could talk to you without asking about her."  
  
Sydney nodded again. "I'd have probably volunteered information even if you hadn't asked."  
  
"I was alone." Jarod said grimly. "But even then I knew that I could come to Delaware whenever I wanted. I could come here and I could see you or Parker anytime. You weren't part of my life but you were still part of this world."  
  
Jarod looked at Sydney with sadness in his eyes. "That won't always be the case will it?" Jarod whispered. "Someday you'll be gone."  
  
Sydney smiled sadly at his young protégé. He understood what Jarod was trying to say. Sydney put an arm around Jarod's shoulder and gave the younger man a gentle squeeze. The stunned look of hope that filled Jarod's eyes brought a lump of regret to Sydney's throat.  
  
"Worrying about the future has never done anyone any good." Sydney said. "You need to live in the now, Jarod. Enjoy the love and laughter that you can find now, because someday all you'll have left of those you love are those good memories. When you build enough of those tender moments, the people we love never really leave us."  
  
Jarod tentatively tilted his head to lean it against Sydney's shoulder. The awkward position slowly turned into an affectionate embrace. Jarod sighed in contentment against Sydney's jacket.  
  
"May I stay with you for a while, Sydney?" Jarod asked, his voice little more than a whisper.  
  
"If that is what you want, Jarod." Sydney replied. "You can stay as long as you like."  
  
After a long pause, Sydney ended the hug and looked seriously into Jarod's eyes. "Is that what you really want?" The psychiatrist asked.  
  
Jarod looked away guiltily.  
  
"Jarod," Sydney said firmly. "What do you really want?"  
  
"I want to go home." Jarod whispered desperately.  
  
"Then do it." Sydney said.  
  
Jarod looked up at his mentor with a deep sadness. "Home isn't a place, Sydney. It's not a house or a room. It's a feeling." Jarod shrugged. "I can only remember feeling truly at home once in my life. And I'm pretty sure that I was only imagining things even then."  
  
Jarod huffed disgustedly. "Even if some part of it was real, at this point I've destroyed any shred of fondness she ever felt for me. I'll never find that place in her life again."  
  
Sydney smiled knowingly. "I think you underestimate the strength of what you two once shared."  
  
Jarod glared at Sydney disbelievingly.  
  
The older man chuckled. "Do you know, that little girl was nearly three years old before Parker would tell me that you were her father? Raines and the Triumvirate had been gone for a couple of years by then. We were all safe. But Parker still protected that child's secret."  
  
Sydney patted Jarod on the shoulder as he talked. "I knew for some time before she told me of course. I think perhaps, deep down I had always known."  
  
Jarod cocked his head at Sydney in curiosity. "Why?" He asked.  
  
Sydney smiled again. "For safety's sake, Parker led everyone to believe that while on vacation, she'd had an affair which led to her pregnancy. Even Lyle believed it and hounded her unmercifully about her 'indiscretion'." The older man clasped Jarod's arm to emphasize his next words. "But I tell you Jarod, she exhibited such adoration for that child while she was expecting. I know that she could not have been so happy if she'd been carrying a stranger's offspring."  
  
"She loves that child all the more because she is a part of you, Jarod." Sydney went on.  
  
Jarod looked at Sydney, a frown creasing his brow. "Do you honestly believe that?" He asked hopefully.  
  
"Yes, I do." Sydney answered. "Trust yourself, Jarod. Trust what your heart tells you."  
  
Jarod stood abruptly and gazed out across the leaf littered lawn. "The last time I did that, I was wrong. I paid dearly for that mistake."  
  
"I'm not telling you to just forget those old wounds and trust her again. I know that would be too hard." Sydney soothed. "I'm telling you to give her the chance to earn that trust back. I'm asking you to remember that you aren't the only one with scars."  
  
Jarod sighed. "She seems so happy now. She's moved on with her life, Sydney."  
  
"She is alone." Sydney said softly. "There is no one in her life but an old man and a little girl. No one else ever gets close enough to really know her."  
  
Jarod buried his hands in his pants pockets and stared down at the ground.  
  
"Don't give up on your self, Jarod." Sydney urged. "Don't settle for a life that doesn't truly make you happy just because it is the safer path. Don't give up on her. You both deserve better than what fate has dealt you so far."  
  
"Don't make the same mistakes I made." Sydney went on gently. "You can't let life just happen to you. You need to reach out and take the happiness you've paid for so dearly. Take it now, before you wake up one day and find that your opportunities have all slipped away."  
  
Jarod glanced forlornly at his mentor with a troubled look on his face. Then he turned and started to walk thoughtfully across the yard. Sydney stood his ground. There was little more he could say to the distraught younger man.  
  
As the helpless Sydney watched, Jarod strolled toward the garage and disappeared inside. He returned a moment later with a rake in one hand. Dressed in his white silk shirt and black suit pants, Jarod began raking leaves into a pile. Sydney watched for a several minutes, fascinated by the strange picture Jarod presented. The pretender's tie hung loosely around his neck and swung back and forth methodically as Jarod swept the yard.  
  
The aging psychiatrist knew his protégé well. Sydney understood that Jarod was troubled by their conversation. Jarod always thought best when he was busy. Keeping his body occupied with this menial task was the pretender's way of thinking through everything they had discussed.  
  
After convincing him self that Jarod wasn't about to walk out of their lives again, Sydney turned and went inside. He had done what he could for now. The next move would be up to Jarod and Miss Parker. It was time for Sydney to head home. With a sudden inspiration, he decided to ask Parker if little Sydney could stay with him for the evening.  
  
It was dark out. Parker sat at the kitchen table flipping casually through the newspaper. She stared sightlessly at the print beneath her fingers, registering nothing. Syd had left with her daughter at dusk nearly an hour ago. The gray-haired man had kissed Parker's cheek affectionately as he left.  
  
"Believe in him, Parker." Syd had whispered into her ear. "Trust him. It is the only way to earn trust from him."  
  
Parker shoved the paper away in irritation. She wanted desperately to talk to Jarod but he hadn't returned yet. When Parker had last seen him, Jarod had been dragging a tarp full of leaves across the yard. He couldn't still be working in the dark.  
  
Parker huffed and went to the window above the sink and peered out back. The yard had been swallowed by darkness. Squares of light from the kitchen windows were cast onto the porch. At the edge of this slight illumination, Parker could just barely make out a dark figure sitting on the porch steps.  
  
Tired of waiting, Parker decided to act. If Jarod wouldn't come in to talk to her, she would go to him. Hurrying into the living room, Parker slid on a pair of canvas shoes and wrapped herself in a soft afghan from the couch. As she stepped quietly on to the back porch, she pulled the blanket more closely around her. The chill in the air was cooler than she had expected.  
  
Parker gracefully crossed the wooden planks and sat beside Jarod in the dark.  
  
"Are you thinking about Angelo?" She asked quietly.  
  
"Some." Jarod said simply. "I'm thinking about of lot of things I guess."  
  
"Like what?" Parker asked inquisitively.  
  
Jarod turned and looked at her intensely. "We need to talk."  
  
"Yes." Parker agreed. "Do you want to start, or shall I?"  
  
Jarod's gaze never wavered from Parker's face. Several heartbeats passed in silence. Jarod sighed and said forlornly, "Do you honestly think Angelo knew how we felt about him?"  
  
Parker nodded. "Yes I do."  
  
Jarod eyes filled with moisture as he tenderly caressed her cheek with his fingertips. He shook his head sadly, "I don't ever want to wonder about you. I want to be sure that you know exactly what you've meant to me." Jarod gently took her face in his hands and pulled her close resting his forehead against hers.  
  
"No matter what has happened between us," He whispered. "You've meant more to me than any single person in my life."  
  
Parker's hands moved to his shoulders until her fingers could intertwine behind his neck.  
  
Jarod sighed despondently. "No one else understands me like you have. Not even Sydney knows as much about me as you do. No one can hurt me the way you can, because no one else has the power over me that you do."  
  
Parker held Jarod close as tears began to form in her eyes.  
  
"I gave you a piece of my heart, of my soul, when we were children, Parker." Jarod whispered. "You have owned that piece of me ever since."  
  
"Jarod." Parker sighed breathlessly.  
  
"You were my first love, Miss Parker." Jarod said softly. "No one else has ever come close to ruling my heart like you." Jarod swallowed hard. " Just once in my life, I wanted to say it to you out loud so there would be no misunderstandings."  
  
"I've always known, Jarod." Parker heaved brokenly. "Sometimes it was overwhelming. The knowledge that of all the people in the world, the one who truly cared about me the most was the one person The Centre would never let me have."  
  
Jarod said bluntly, "I never stopped wanting you."  
  
Parker swallowed.  
  
"There was a period of time, while I was angry and hurt, when I stopped loving you." Jarod went on. "But I have always wanted you."  
  
Parker smiled nervously. "Don't beat around the bush, Jarod. Just come right out and say what's on your mind."  
  
"I've had a long time to think about this." He whispered.  
  
"Is wanting me enough?" Parker asked anxiously.  
  
"No." Jarod said simply.  
  
Parker tried to speak past the lump that suddenly formed in her throat. "Then is there no hope for us now?" she whispered.  
  
"That depends." Jarod said. "Do you care about me at all?"  
  
"Yes, I do." Parker whispered.  
  
"Prove it." Jarod said gruffly.  
  
"How do you suggest I do that, Jarod?" Parker asked in irritation. "How can you know how much I've missed you? Is there any way to prove to you that every time the phone rings part of me hopes that you will be on the other end of the line?" Parker sighed. "I can't prove anything. I can only tell you that I care."  
  
With an easy movement, Jarod slid to his knees two steps below Parker. Kneeling directly in front of her, Jarod looked up into her eyes. "Kiss me," He rasped. "I know how you feel when you kiss me."  
  
Taking his face in her hands, Parker pressed her lips against Jarod's mouth. The kiss began tentatively, as two cautious strangers met in the dark. But Parker's body quickly reacted to Jarod's and the kiss deepened. She wrapped her arms around him and began nibbling hungrily at his lips. Jarod grasped her thighs and pulled her closer. Within moments, the years that separated them had vanished as they embraced each other passionately.  
  
"Parker." Jarod whispered her name like a prayer.  
  
Parker arched her back over the top step and let the blanket covering her drop to her sides. Jarod rained a trail of kisses down her exposed throat to lick greedily at her cleavage. He leaned his body more closely against hers. Parker wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him close with her thighs so she could feel his arousal against her own.  
  
Jarod moaned when he felt her erect nipple even through her clothing. Taking the tiny bud between his teeth, Jarod suckled at her through the soft cotton of her sweater until she moaned in return.  
  
Parker's throaty laughter rang triumphantly in the air. "Do you want me, Jarod?" She whispered erotically.  
  
"God, yes." He breathed against her breast.  
  
"Is wanting me enough?" Parker purred into his ear.  
  
"Never." Jarod growled. "It will never be enough."  
  
"Do you love me, Jarod?" Parker murmured throatily.  
  
Jarod answered with a desperate sigh. "God help me, I do."  
  
Wrapping her fingers in his hair, Parker dragged Jarod's mouth up to her own, kissing him deeply and passionately. "Prove it." She pleaded.  
  
They made love in the square of light shining from the kitchen windows. They clung to each other, desperately trying to erase the years they had lost. When Jarod entered her, Parker gasped with the shear joy of it. Despite the Parker legacy and all the heartache Jarod had suffered as a result, this wonderful, incredible soul still loved her. Happy tears formed and rolled down Parker's face to disappear in her hair as she rose again and again to meet Jarod's passion.  
  
Jarod loved her. For the first time in her life, Parker welcomed his devotion without reservation or doubt. She handed Jarod her heart eagerly, knowing that he alone could fill the dark void that haunted her soul.  
  
Together they reached a shattering culmination, crying out against each other's lips. Jarod lay against Parker's breast shivering with reaction to the raw emotions he felt radiating from her.  
  
Raising himself up on his elbows, Jarod tenderly brushed Parker's hair away from her face and gazed at her with awe. "Do you love me, Parker?" He asked quietly.  
  
Jarod watched as her eyes began to glow with a wonderful mischief and a sly smile began to curl her lips. "God help me, I do. It looks like you're stuck with me."  
  
Jarod nuzzled her throat as he laughed. His laughter dwindled suddenly and he sighed, his warm breath tickling her neck. "We've lost so much time, Parker." Jarod said regretfully.  
  
"Hey." Parker chided. "No more regrets. We've spent too much of our lives dwelling on what has been taken from us. Now it's time to enjoy what we've got. We are lucky." She said cupping his chin in her palm and dragging his gaze to meet her own. "Most people can never appreciate their lives the way we will."  
  
Jarod closed his eyes and sighed. "I want to believe you." He whispered. "I want to trust you."  
  
Parker wrapped her arms around Jarod and held him tight. "You will, Jarod." She said gently kissing his brow. "Some day you will."  
  
"What do we do until then?" Jarod asked.  
  
Parker caught her lower lip between her teeth as the sly smile spread across her face once more. She locked her ankles together behind Jarod's back and squeezed him tightly between her thighs, momentarily making him gasp for air. "You run and I'll chase." She giggled playfully.  
  
Jarod ran his fingernails softly down the back of Parker's thigh, tickling her into a squeal and loosening the vice-like grip she had around his waist. "Maybe I want to do a little chasing myself." Jarod said with a suggestive smirk.  
  
Parker pushed Jarod off of her and sat up. Half dressed as she was with her hair tussled and her lips full from their recent kisses, Jarod thought Parker had to be the single most erotic creature to ever walk the face of the planet.  
  
"Do you think you can catch me?" Parker sneered regally.  
  
Jarod couldn't stop the grin that broke out on his face. He could get used to this verbal foreplay very quickly indeed. "I'll catch you, Parker, or die trying." He growled.  
  
"Well then Wonder-boy," Parker smiled. "Let's see what you've got." She sprung up from the porch and dashed into the house.  
  
Jarod took off after her. Parker got as far as the living room couch before she allowed Jarod to catch her. They wound up in a heap on the floor in front of the darkened fireplace where they quickly shed what was left of their clothing.  
  
The rest of the evening was spent in a similar fashion. Playful teasing and rough housing would turn into sexual exploration of each other's bodies. Between bouts of lovemaking they talked about many things, especially their daughter. Parker taunted Jarod mercilessly, lovingly torturing him in to a mock submission that he was only to eager to give her.  
  
It was well after midnight when they both fell into an exhausted slumber.  
  
When Parker woke the next morning, the bed beside her was cold and empty. She tried not to panic but the doubt crept into her heart anyway. She hurried out of bed and pulled a silk robe over her nakedness. Fearful that Jarod may have left again, Parker rushed into the hall still tightening the robe's belt at her waist.  
  
Jarod was standing in the kitchen gazing thoughtfully out the window as he sipped at a steaming mug. From the aroma in the room, Parker guessed that the cup held fresh coffee. Jarod was wearing well-worn blue jeans and a sweatshirt that had seen better days. He had running shoes on his feet and a black leather jacket hung casually across the back of one of the wooden kitchen chairs.  
  
"You've been busy this morning." Parker observed.  
  
Jarod shrugged. "I hope you don't mind that I borrowed your car." He said. "But I needed to get my things."  
  
Parker smiled brightly at him as she crossed the room and poured herself some coffee. "Why would I mind, Jarod?"  
  
He shrugged again without comment.  
  
"Did you get everything?" Parker asked inquisitively. She sipped at her drink to hide the fact that she was prying.  
  
"Everything except the car I left parked at the cemetery." Jarod answered. "We'll need to get it later."  
  
Parker nodded. She sat in one of the kitchen chairs and the two of them drank their coffee in a companionable silence for a time.  
  
With a slight fidget, Jarod sighed and said. "I wasn't sure what to do with my stuff, so I left most of it in the trunk."  
  
"What you do with your things all depends on when you are planning on going home." Parker said cautiously.  
  
Jarod swallowed, sat down in the other chair and glared nervously into his coffee cup. "I sort of felt like I'd already come home." He said slowly.  
  
Parker's smile lit up her face. With a puff of relief, she threw herself out of her chair and onto Jarod's lap. Wrapping him in a warm embrace, Parker laughed. "Oh Jarod," She whispered into his hair. "Welcome home."  
  
Jarod simply could not believe his good fortune. He gazed up in to Parker's face and reveled in the acceptance he saw glowing in her eyes. He kissed her.  
  
Breathless after the deep kiss, Parker murmured into Jarod's hair, "Your folks will be disappointed."  
  
Jarod nodded. "I'll promise to visit often." He vowed. "I belong here, Parker. They'll learn to accept that."  
  
Parker nodded. "Just knowing where you are will make them happy. Promise me, Jarod, no more disappearing acts. Promise."  
  
"I promise." He said.  
  
"Parker?" Jarod asked quietly against the soft curve of her neck. Things were going so well at the moment, Jarod decided to push his luck just a little further.  
  
"Hmm?" she murmured.  
  
"Would you do something for me if I asked?" He said.  
  
Parker sat up and looked at Jarod with a small frown. "It depends." She said carefully. "Why don't you ask and we'll find out."  
  
Jarod's hand started to make anxious little circles on the small of Parker's back as he stumbled over his words.  
  
"I've been thinking about our daughter." Jarod began.  
  
Parker smiled. She liked it very much when Jarod referred to Sydney as 'our daughter'.  
  
"I've missed so much; her first steps, her first tooth, her first Christmas. I didn't get to see her take her first breath." Jarod splayed one strong hand over Parker's abdomen. "I missed seeing you get fat." He smiled at her sudden indignation. "I didn't get to see her growing inside you."  
  
Parker ran one hand through Jarod's hair. "I'm sorry." She whispered fervently. "I really am."  
  
Jarod was very still and quiet for a minute. "Would you consider," Jarod finally stuttered. "Having another child?"  
  
Parker sighed slightly. "I'm well in to my forties, Jarod."  
  
"I understand," Jarod nodded. "It's your decision of course. If you don't want to, I understand."  
  
Parker chuckled and kissed Jarod's temple. "I never said I didn't want to. I'm just saying that it may not be so easy to accomplish. Women my age can have trouble conceiving you know."  
  
Jarod grinned lecherously and stroked her cheek with his fingertips. "But trying will be so much fun."  
  
"Do you think so, Wonder-boy?" Parker breathed seductively.  
  
"Mmm." Jarod groaned as Parker flicked her tongue in his ear. Coherent thoughts fled from his brain as he reveled in Parker's arms. At long last, Jarod had finally found his way home.  
  
  
  
The End. 


End file.
